Duct Tape and Safety Pins
by Cassodembreankia
Summary: Okay, okay, okay. So MAYBE I panicked! So MAYBE I told my grandma that I was married when, in fact, I'm not! So MAYBE the only person she'd believe I'm "married" to is the Winter Soldier. So what? Pretending to be married isn't THAT hard... right? It's all duct tape and safety pins - we're only gonna be "together" for a short time! ... Right?
1. 1 Emergency Engagement

"Bucky, emergency!" I squealed into my phone as soon as it connected and he answered.

"What's wrong?" he asked groggily.

"I need you to pretend to be my husband for the next month!"

"Wh-why?" I could hear him yawning.

"I was on the phone with my grandma and she's coming to visit New York for a month and she asked if I'd gotten married yet and I didn't want to disappoint her so I panicked and said yes. And she asked why I hadn't sent her an invitation or an announcement and I told her we had to keep it small because of what he does for a living and sending out invitations or announcements would be too dangerous for us."

"You're really good at lying on your feet," he commented tiredly. "Why didn't you ask Steve?"

"Because there's no way in _heck_ she'd _ever_ believe I landed Captain America! She's practically old enough to remember him!"

"Why not? Every Grandma thinks her granddaughter is worthy of Captain America."

"No, Gran knows I'm too much like her when she was my age. Captain America is brave and smart and cool and all—but she knows I'd end up falling for the… bad boy, for lack of a better term," I admitted. I could hear Bucky chuckling. "Will you please do it?"

"Sure. When is she coming?"

"The day after tomorrow."

"That's enough time to get a ring. Call Tony and tell him the good news while I get dressed because he'll insist on getting a ring for you. Then call Steve so he can have a good laugh. I'll be at your place in like an hour."

"For what?"

"Well, we gotta make it convincing, don't we doll?" he teased.

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

Tony texted me the second the conversation was over. _YOU AND BARNES ARE PLAYING HOUSE?!_

 _Tony what the heck?! Did you bug my phone?!_

 _No I bugged Barnes' phone. I don't trust him being completely on his own. But congrats on the "marriage" kid!_

 _Thanks._

 _And Barnes is right. I totally wanna get you the ring. Wanna design it and send me the pic or do you want me to choose?_

 _I feel like if I'm pretending to be married to Bucky it should be 1940s styled._

 _Okay. Give me two minutes. I'll send you some pictures of what I find._

 _Thanks Tony._

 _Anytime kid. It's not every day you pretend to be married!_

I chuckled and stopped texting him back, rolling my eyes. I pulled a brush through my hair and was just getting out of my pajamas when my phone went off and several pictures of wedding rings came up with the caption, _Like any of these?_ I scrolled through the photos with eyebrows raised. They were all elegant and classic—they reminded me of my grandma's ring.

 _The third one is my favorite of them all._

 _Then expect it to come tomorrow._

 _Thanks Tony._

 _Anytime kid._

I pulled my clothes on and called Steve while I made breakfast. When I told him what was happening, he did indeed have a good laugh. "Well then, congratulations, Mrs. Barnes! Bucky's a lucky guy!" he chuckled.

"It's just for a month."

"Unless you fall in love."

"Shut up Rogers or I'll kick your butt into next year."

"I don't doubt that!" He hung up. I ate my breakfast and was just finishing brushing my teeth when the doorbell to my apartment rang. I straightened up from the sink, put my toothbrush away, and rushed to the door. I glanced through the peephole—it was Bucky—and yanked it open. He was smiling, all dressed up in a blue Henley, black jeans, boots, and a black leather jacket, arms behind his back. There was a black overnight bag just behind him. My eyebrows lifted when I saw his whole outfit.

"You look nice. What's the occasion?" I asked. I was in a loose-but-dressy short-sleeved green shirt with my own black leather jacket over it, a short black skirt with leggings underneath, and boots. I looked decent, but not _really_ nice.

"Can a man not dress up for his wife?" he teased, bringing his arms around to the front to show he had a red rose in his metal hand. I blushed the same color as the flower and yanked him by the shoulder into my apartment.

"Come on, you big sap!" I exclaimed. He snagged the overnight bag and pulled it in with him. I gave him a hug. "Thank you for doing this."

"You know," he remarked as I closed the door. "You could just tell your grandmother that you panicked and said yes when you actually meant no and get yourself out of this situation. It's not too late to turn back." I buried my face in my hands and sighed heavily, sitting down on the arm of the sofa. I hung my head and shook it several times.

"I know. And I should. But the _look_ of utter _disappointment_ in her eyes when she realizes that I lied and actually have no love life is just something I'm so sick of putting up with and…" I trailed off. Bucky patted my shoulder awkwardly. When I finally looked up, my eyes lighted on his bag. "So what's in there?" I asked curiously. Bucky shrugged and unzipped it.

"Just a couple things to make it look like I live here too," he answered. He pulled out a few of his other jackets and hung them on my coat rack next to the door. From the very front pocket he pulled out a framed picture of the two of us—him with his normal arm around my shoulders and me with one arm around his waist. We were both smiling and someone else had obviously taken the picture. His metal arm was covered by a long-sleeve shirt and the hand that would reveal it was metal was cut off by the frame. I scrunched my eyebrows.

"When did we take that?" I asked as he set it on top of the cabinet that held my TV.

"Long time ago. Back when we first met I think. I found it on my phone."

"And you printed it and framed it?"

"Yeah. I have framed pictures of me with everyone all over my apartment," he replied. "It reminds me that I'm not alone. That I have friends. After seventy years of isolation, I'd say I deserve a little bit of friendship, don't you think?"

"Absolutely," I answered without thinking.

"And I hope you don't mind, but I brought this too." He pulled his old utility belt out of the bag. There were three wickedly-sharp knives hanging from it.

I opened and closed my mouth for a few moments, trying to think of what I wanted to say in response. "I don't mind. But why?"

"Because I'm an ex-assassin and I'm paranoid that someone will break in."

"Ooooooookay," I remarked. "That's fine. Just don't let my Gran see or she'll have a conniption. Do you wanna, like, bring your normal clothes? I have plenty of room in the closet and you'll be staying here for a while…" Bucky shrugged.

"Sure. But I'll bring them tomorrow. For now, we need to get our stories straight. We'll keep it as true as possible. We met in Brooklyn, through our mutual friend, Steve Rogers. I was a sergeant in World War Two, turned into an assassin kept in cryofreeze for a long time, thawed out for missions—et cetera. We dated for a year before I asked you to marry me on the roof of the Avengers Tower. We got married April second. We didn't have any groomsmen or bridesmaids because the ceremony had to be small. We're not having kids for a couple years because there are still people after me."

"What was our first date?"

"I took you dancing. I know you're very good at it, so don't deny that would be our first date."

"How do you—?" I started.

"Remember the party Tony threw where he got you to swing with him?"

"You were there?!" I demanded.

Bucky shrugged. "I was, like, way late because Steve told me the wrong time, but I turned up eventually, yes. And I saw you dancing with Tony. Pepper was laughing her head off at you two," he answered. I wanted to bury my face in my hands. That wasn't a memory I thought back on with fondness—more like embarrassment. "You were very good at it—you're very talented."

"Thanks," I muttered.

"And you'll have to get used to me holding you, hugging you, even kissing you. Because that's how my parents used to show affection, and it rubbed off on me," he informed me cheekily. I rolled my eyes but sighed.

"Okay," I conceded. He gave me a big, cheesy hug. "Get off of me, you big sap!"

He laughed and let go. "You know you love me!" he teased.

Grumbling, I moved away. "We'll see about that."

* * *

 **End Note: I love fake married stories. They're so much fun. And for those who don't know what a Henley is: it's the type of shirt Bucky is wearing in the Civil War trailer - except this one is blue not red.**

 **Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Please tell me what you thought if you have a comment!**


	2. 2 Wedding Photoshop

Steve came over about a half hour later, satchel hanging off his shoulder. "Hey kid!" he greeted brightly, giving me a hug. "Thought I'd come over and help you out."

"With what?" I asked.

He pulled his laptop and drawing tablet out of his satchel. Though he preferred pen and paper, he was quite accomplished at digital art. "Well, most married couples have wedding pictures displayed in their home," he answered. Bucky laughed from behind me, stood up, and came over to hug his best friend.

"Good idea," the ex-assassin remarked. _This idea is either getting way better, or way worse,_ I thought irritably. Steve sat down on my sofa. I sat on one side of him and expected Bucky to be on the other side, but instead he sat next to me and wrapped his metal arm around my shoulders.

Steve scrolled through several different kinds of wedding photos for a few minutes, lips pursed in thought. "Okay. We're going to take a picture of you two," he decided. "Are you wearing a camisole under that shirt?"

"Yeah…" I trailed off.

"Good. Take your shirt off."

"What?!" I demanded.

"Take your shirt off," Steve repeated. "I need to be able to see your body shape and most spring wedding dresses have bare arms. Go stand against that wall, both of you." We did as we were told, me reluctantly pulling my green shirt off to reveal the white camisole I was wearing underneath. "Okay, Cass, stand on Bucky's left and turn in so you're facing him and then turn your head to look back at me," Steve instructed. I did so. "Now put your hand on his chest—your left one to show off the ring. Once we have it I'll add it to the picture." I put my hand more on Bucky's ribcage than his chest. "A little higher. Even higher. Act like you freaking like him, Cassandra! Put your hand higher!" Steve snapped jovially. When my fingers were practically resting on Bucky's collarbone, Steve nodded in satisfaction. "Now Bucky, put your hands on her waist." He paused as I felt flesh and metal through my cami. "On second thought, that's a little too rigid. Relax a bit and rest your hands gently on her hips—like you like her!" Bucky did as instructed. "Okay, now smile like you're hopelessly in love with each other!" the captain exclaimed. I grinned sarcastically for a moment before turning it into a happy smile.

I heard the shutter sound from Steve's phone and the captain smiled.

"Perfect! You guys make good models!"

"Shut up," I muttered. Steve snickered.

He flopped back down onto my sofa and Bucky and I resumed our seats—me putting my shirt back on. Steve pulled up Photoshop and lots of stock photos and set right to work. "Which dress do you like?" he asked, showing me about five dresses in the same position as I'd been in for the picture.

"The se—"

"Fourth one," Bucky interrupted. I scrunched my eyebrows and turned to glare at him.

"It's _my_ wedding dress!" I snapped teasingly.

"Yeah, but that one would look pretty on you!" he protested.

I sighed dramatically. "Do the fourth one, Steve."

"Okay. You two go off somewhere and get to know each other better while I finish this bit. When I need your opinions, I'll give you a call."

"Are you kicking me out of my own apartment?" I asked.

"Not at all. Just suggesting you two go learn how to pretend to be married."

"That won't be too hard given how much I seem to argue with everyone," I muttered under my breath.

"That's the spirit!" Steve said distractedly, digitally removing the straps of my bra and camisole so they wouldn't interfere with putting the dress on over the clothes I was actually wearing. Bucky stood up and offered me his normal hand.

"C'mon. Let's go for a walk around the block."

So we did. Steve called once or twice asking if we preferred the woods or a field or a blurry city skyline for our background and if Bucky preferred a tie or a bowtie. Since Bucky picked the dress, I insisted he be put in a bowtie—which he didn't seem to mind. Finally, after a while, Steve called one last time. "Okay. Your wedding picture is done. Come look," was all he said before hanging up. Bucky and I rushed back to my apartment and slipped in. Bucky jumped over the back of the sofa and landed on one side of Steve while I—more conventionally—went around the other side and sat on the captain's other side.

"Wow," I muttered, looking at it in awe.

"And this, my friends, is why you can't trust any picture you see anymore," Steve remarked.

It looked like a real, professionally done photo—taken outside in actual wedding clothes instead of against a blank wall in my apartment. Bucky was in a formal tuxedo and I was in a grand wedding dress that suited my body shape while making me look a bit slimmer than maybe I actually was. His metal hand was covered by the veil falling from my long hair. "Impressive," Bucky commented, whistling appreciatively.

"I'll print it out, frame it, and bring it by tomorrow," Steve commented, standing up.

"Thanks Steve," I told him, deciding this would be an okay idea after all.

The super soldier gave me a big hug. "No problem. It was my pleasure— _Mrs. Barnes_."

I whacked him in the chest as I let go. "Shut up."

"You two are going to be teased about this until you actually get married. I hope you know that," Steve whispered in my ear. I rolled my eyes.

"Go away Captain," I snapped.

He strolled over to the door, me tailing closely behind with Bucky still on the sofa. "I ship it!" Steve called before I slammed the door on him and locked it. I knew if he wanted to he could break the whole thing down with like zero effort, but I locked it anyway.

"How does he even know what that means?" I hissed under my breath.

"What does that mean?" Bucky asked.

I sighed. "I'm not even going to tell you."

"Oh. Um… okay. Is it a bad thing?"

"No. But if I told you what it meant, you might get embarrassed or angry."

"Huh. Alright then." He stretched his metal arm over the back of the couch. "Come have a seat. Let's talk."

I sat down and let him drape his arm over my shoulders. He held me closer than I could have preferred, but I knew I'd have to get used to it if my grandma expected me to be deeply in love with this guy. We talked for several hours, well into late afternoon, before we got hungry. Bucky looked out at the dimming light and grinned, hopping to his feet.

"Let me treat you to dinner," he said, offering me his hand.

"No," I retorted.

"Why not?"

"Because I have food here and we don't have to pretend yet. Let's just make a TV dinner and watch a movie." I took his hand, let him help me up, and opened some of my cupboards—and the freezer. I picked a frozen personal pizza. Bucky picked the same.

We sat close to each other while we ate and watched _Megamind_. Bucky thought it was hilarious.

As the sun went down and I got tired, I leaned my head on his shoulder. He brushed my hair with his metal hand idly as I relaxed.

"Should I stay over tonight? We might as well get used to sharing," he remarked.

I shrugged, too tired to argue. "Okay," I muttered. He helped me up and into the master bedroom. I know it sounds weird, single girl living alone has a king-size bed, but I did have a king-size bed. I slept firmly on one side of it to make it easier to make in the mornings, but I had a big bed. "You can use the bathroom first," I commented.

"I'll shower in the morning."

"Okay then I'll use the bathroom first." I took everything I needed into the bathroom, took a shower, changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, pulled my hair back into a braid, and left. Bucky was looking at the picture of me and my family on my bedside table when I went into the bedroom.

He took his turn to brush his teeth and whatever else and came back in. I was already in the covers on my usual side, laying on my left shoulder so my back was to him.

Bucky pulled the covers down on his side before stopping. "Do you mind that I sleep without a shirt on?" he asked.

I was too tired to care. "No."

I heard fabric rustling and then felt him get in. "Good. Thank you." I shrugged.

We fell asleep with our backs to each other, almost as far away as we could be.

So you'll imagine how surprised I was when I woke up the next morning.

* * *

 **End Note: Okay. I wasn't going to post this until finals were over but I had just enough extra time that I could write out a few things. I'm trying a new format out with this by only having notes at the end (assuming I remember to do it like that). I won't be able to respond to reviews every time, but** ** _holy freaking cow!_** **The response to this one was** ** _stellar_** **in regards to how people usually respond. Like, wow guys! Thanks for being so dang enthusiastic!**

 **To "havarti2": Thank you so much! I'm glad you like it! To "ToxieDoxie": There is _definitely_ more to come! To "Whitelion69": I will absolutely write more when I can! To "callieandjack": I already spoke to you about your review. To "Guest": I'm glad you're excited - I am too! To "AssembleCHB": I didn't see a reason to use her name in the first chapter, but as you can see, she's definitely got one (and I kinda already have a ship name in my head... but feel free to make one yourself)!**

 **Thank you for reading! Leave a comment if you'd like!**


	3. 3 Morning

I woke up on my right side, sucking a deep breath through my nose and sighing. There was something touching my forehead and something else holding my back. My entire front was pressed against something warm. My right hand was under something heavy and something really cold and uncomfortable was under me.

My eyes fluttered open to see that Bucky was holding me as close to him as possible, forehead pressed against mine and nose only an inch away. I was lying on his metal arm and my hand was under his cheek. Our heads were on the same long pillow.

I thought most people pushed each other away in the night.

Carefully, trying not to wake him, I unstuck my forehead from his.

My movement was just enough to wake him up. He must have been a really light sleeper. He sighed and opened his eyes to see me staring at him. A grin tilted up the corners of his tired lips. "Morning gorgeous," he greeted, pulling me tighter to him. Then his eyebrows scrunched and he glanced over my head at the lighting. "What time is it?"

I looked at my watch. "Nine," I answered.

He looked pleasantly surprised. "I slept through the night?" he asked tiredly.

"I think so. I guess," I remarked.

"Huh."

"What is it?"

"I can't remember the last time I slept through the night."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he muttered.

"Why?" I questioned.

"Nightmares."

"Oh."

He pulled me closer and rested his hand on the back of my head. "I guess you make them go away," he teased. I rolled my eyes while he chuckled, eyes half-closed.

Tony threw the door open to my bedroom—which I hadn't even realized Bucky had closed last night—dramatically flourishing his arms. "Good morning starshine, the earth says—" The billionaire cut himself off. I could hear a smile in his voice when he spoke again. "Well, I see you two are already getting… _comfortable_ with each other," he remarked.

I extricated myself from Bucky's tight— _warm_ —hold to sit up and glare at Tony. "What do you want?" I demanded as I slid out of bed and threw my bathrobe on over my overlarge T-shirt and flannel pants that made up my pajamas to combat the cold of my bedroom. Lucky me I didn't look like as much of a mess as I could have on any normal morning where my hair would be wild from not pulling it back the night before. If I looked like that, Tony would have been making endless jokes and I would never live it down.

"I just wanted to bring you _these!"_ Dramatically he pulled a velvet box out of his pocket. I circled the bed as Bucky rolled over to see Tony too and get out of the covers himself. I threw him his shirt and tied my robe loosely so it wouldn't get in the way.

Bucky yanked his shirt over his head and clambered off the bed. I moved to put my hand out for the box but Stark slapped it away. "Nuh-uh!" he snapped. I opened my mouth to be very angry until he passed it to Bucky. "A gentleman should always place a ring upon his lady's finger!" Bucky took the box with an almost sarcastic expression.

"I swear if you start singing Beyoncé I'm going to throw you out that window," I told Tony.

He shrugged. "I would never _dream_ of it!" But he started humming _Single Ladies_ anyway. I slapped his shoulder to get him to shut up.

Bucky opened the little box and his jaw dropped. "Where did you get this?" he asked.

"I sent her a bunch of pictures of forties'-style wedding rings. That was the one she picked. I found it at an antique shop in Brooklyn. Why?" Tony explained. Bucky stared at what I assumed was the ring—but the box lid was in the way so I couldn't see it—silently for several moments, messy hair falling on his face.

"It looks just like my mother's," he whispered.

Tony raised his eyebrows and slid out the doorway, realizing he was intruding or something. "I'll be in the kitchen," he whispered to me. I nodded my agreement and took a step closer to Bucky, hoping to jog him a little bit.

The ex-assassin shook his head and pulled the ring out of the box. "I now dub thee, temporary Mrs. Barnes," he murmured quietly. He slid the gold band down my left ring finger, his own fingertips lingering as he stared at it. Also in the box was a man's wedding band—which he put on himself on his metal ring finger. I smiled as he took my hand and kissed my knuckles. "How did I get so lucky to land you?"

I rolled my eyes. " _I_ landed _you_ because _I_ panicked," I retorted. Bucky gave me a hug.

"Yeah, but still. You chose me to pretend to be married to."

We left the bedroom to see Tony rifling through my cupboards. "I was going to make you guys some coffee but you don't have any. Why don't you have coffee?" the genius asked.

"I don't drink coffee. You know that," I replied. "Caffeine kills your kidneys just like alcohol kills your liver. I value my organs too much for those _thank you very much_."

"Sassy this morning, are we?" Tony asked. "The ring looks good on you, by the way."

"Thanks."

"I'll leave the newlyweds to… whatever it was you were doing," Tony decided, taking his leave with a wink. I rolled my eyes after he'd gone.

Bucky put his hand on the small of my back. "I'm gonna get in the shower."

"Okay. Want me to make you some breakfast?"

"Sure. Whatever you want."

He grabbed something shiny out of his overnight bag. "What is that?" I asked curiously.

Bucky looked confused. "My razor?"

"You use a straight razor?"

"Yeah. I don't know how to use anything else…" He trailed off, still confused at me. "I grew up in the thirties and forties—we didn't really have disposable razors then." I waved my hands through the air apologetically.

"Sorry. I was just confused."

He shrugged with his normal shoulder. "It's fine." He pulled his shirt off, winked when he realized that I realized I was blushing, and retreated into the bathroom.

I put two waffles in the toaster and pulled out the syrup. I made myself a glass of chocolate milk with some cocoa powder and poured a glass of normal milk for Bucky but left the cocoa powder next to it in case he wanted chocolate milk too. When the toaster popped, I put two more waffles in. The only bad thing about living alone and having guests was a two-slot toaster—my parents had a four-slot one.

The doorbell rang while Bucky was still in the shower. I glanced through the peephole. "Steve!" I greeted as I yanked the door open.

"Hey. I realized I couldn't print and frame your picture yet because I don't have a picture of the ring," he commented. I held up my hand, showing it to him.

He reacted similarly to Bucky. "That looks just like Bucky's mom's," he muttered.

"So Bucky mentioned," I remarked.

"Where is he anyway?"

"Shower. I'm just making breakfast. Want something?"

"No. Thanks. Just need a picture of the ring. I can definitely get it printed and framed by this afternoon." He took my hand like he was going to kiss it, but instead put his phone above and took a picture. "Great. That's all I needed. Give your husband my best. I'll see you later today."

"He's not my husband!" I shouted as Steve dodged out the door.

"I ship it!" he called as he snapped it shut behind him.

* * *

 **End Note: It is my firm belief for this story that Steve is the biggest BuckCass/Casscky shipper _ever_. This is my gift to everyone because I finished my first college final today.**

 **To "CrazyNonWriter": Glad you liked the "I ship it!" bit from last chapter! I thought it was too funny not to put in (also it's exactly what my best friend would say if I actually was in this situation). To "RussianAssassin": Yeah, I don't believe that Steve is a technophobe. I think he really embraced technology after he got used to it - there's no reason for him to be afraid of it. To me anyway. To "AssembleCHB": See above for my ship names - but I'd genuinely** ** _love_** **to hear yours if you have a better one! To "Whitelion69": Thank you! Hope you like it! To "Angelbaby1231": Thank you! And yes, Steve is a shipper! To "harvarti2": Have fun fangirling! I wouldn't call it _perfection_ , but I'm getting as close as I can! (Haha.) To "inperfection": Thank you! Me too, trust me. I'm looking forward to where this goes too! To "Rosemary (Guest)": (Gorgeous name, btw.) I have _no idea_ at the moment where Steve learned what shipping is, whether from Tony or Darcy or Cass herself or someone else, but he is a shipper. To "callieandjack": Now you know what happened the next morning. To "Kelsoc (Guest)": I'm not quite sure at the moment how this is going to end. I have a general idea, of course, but I can't give anything away! That's no fun! (I saw your review for UaVS3! I'm so glad you like my writing style!) To "SarahSmith95": Thank you! I'm glad you like it!**

 **Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you thought if you have a comment!**


	4. 4 Steve Has the Worst Timing

Bucky stepped out of the bathroom in jeans with a towel around his bare shoulders, catching the drip from his annoyingly long hair. "Who were you talking to?" he asked.

"Steve. He needed a picture of the ring to finish the wedding photo," I explained.

"He didn't want to stay for breakfast?"

"No. I offered."

"Huh." Bucky sat down at the table. "Thank you for making breakfast."

"You're welcome. I didn't really _make_ anything…"

"No, but you're being very kind."

"Well you're pretending to be married to me for the next month so it's the least I can do."

Bucky laughed while I sat down opposite him and we ate breakfast.

When we were done, Bucky put a shirt on, I got dressed properly, and we went to Bucky's apartment and packed up all the clothes he'd need for living with me for a month. We took them back to my apartment and hung them on the other side of my pretty big closet. The whole thing had taken about two hours because of New York traffic. One of the few things I didn't like about living in the city. I was humming something when Bucky plugged his phone into the speakers on my desk and started playing a dance song— _Shut Up and Dance_ to be precise.

"No," I decided. "We're not doing this."

"C'mon, little angel! You gotta know how to dance with me!" he protested, holding his hands out, palms up, for me. I sighed heavily and slapped my hands on top of his. "That-a girl, sweetheart!"

I rolled my eyes but let him fling me around. He was very strong and I knew what he was doing because I liked swing-dancing a lot myself. So reluctantly I joined him. He bent me in a dip over his leg, holding all my weight on his knee. His head was only a few inches from mine.

As the song wound to an end I gave him a skeptical raised eyebrow. "Done?" I asked.

He smirked. "For now." He popped me back up but didn't let go.

I rolled my eyes.

He held me close to him, pressing almost my entire body against his. "You know you love me," he teased.

"We'll see about that," I remarked.

"How about I give you a kiss?"

"How about not?"

"C'mon, little angel! You oughta get used to my kisses now because you're going to get a whole month full of them!"

"Stop calling me that," I snapped.

"What—little angel? What would you prefer? Sweetheart? Honey? My love? Doll? Because I'm calling you something. And it's not just gonna be Cass. You have a lovely name, sweetheart, but if I'm supposed to be your husband, I'm going to call you something sweet."

I sighed dramatically. "Fine. Just not 'little angel'. That sounds like you're talking to your daughter or something. Sweetheart is fine. Doll is fine. I guess. Just not little angel."

Bucky smiled and kissed my forehead. "Okay then. Now how about that kiss?"

"How about not?" I repeated.

But he snared my waist with his metal arm and pulled me close to his body. I was a good deal shorter than him so I had to look up to see him. I was half-tempted not to and just keep my eyes on his chest directly in front of me, but all the manners I had ever been forced to learn nagged me to look at his face because it was polite. So I begrudgingly turned my head upwards to look at him. His steely blue eyes were glimmering with amusement. "You're so cute, doll," he teased. I rolled my eyes. "Come on. I'm not used to gentle action anymore. Don't you wanna make sure I don't crush your face?"

"If it were anyone but you, I'd throw them out that window." Figuring it would be better to just get it over with, I tilted up onto my tiptoes.

He gave me a kiss. Deep, searching, and strong. He held me firmly with both arms, fingers flexing into my back. I'm not sure how my hands ended up on his shoulders, but they were there and I could feel the metal under his shirt with my right hand. My left hand tightened around supple muscle. The part of my brain that was resisting got squashed by the rest that was squealing.

"Hey guys, I printed out your—" Steve's voice started as the door opened. He stopped completely—both speaking and in his tracks—when he caught sight of us.

Licking my very suddenly chapped lips I turned to see him. "Steve!" I greeted.

"I can come back later," he commented.

"No it's okay," I replied quickly, pulling out of Bucky's still-firm grip. "We were… just… I actually don't have a good answer. Lemme see the picture?" I took the frame from his hand while I sensed silent communication passing between him and Bucky. I nodded appreciatively. "It looks _good_!" I complimented. "You did a great job!" Steve grinned at me.

"Thanks Cass." He turned and looked at his best friend. "Can I talk to you out in the hall for a moment, Buck?" he asked. " _Alone?"_ I raised my eyebrows. Had something happened? Was something wrong? That couldn't have been the case because if something was wrong he would have told me too.

Maybe it was nothing and I was just being paranoid. That was more likely.

Bucky shrugged. "Sure." He moved to go. "Pick a spot for the picture. I'll be right back," he told me.

"Okay."

The two super soldiers left my apartment and I looked around. I could put it next to the other one Bucky had brought on the TV cabinet. Or I could put it on the coffee table. Or the end table near the window. The kitchen would be a bad idea—it would get covered in flour if Gran insisted on cooking like she did last time… Maybe I could put it on the dining table? No that would be dumb. What kind of centerpiece would a photoshopped wedding picture be? A stupid one that's what. I sighed heavily and set the frame on top of the TV cabinet next to the other one, turning them on diagonals towards each other for aesthetic. I shrugged. It would have to work. Gran might not even notice.

Yeah, and maybe the sun was a ball of butter.

* * *

 **End Note: Okay. Holy cow this thing is getting a great response. I'm a little thunderstruck. Thanks everybody!**

 **To "candycrum": Thank you! To "Shatteredxo": Thank you! Yes they do! To "RussianAssassin": Not sure what Phase Two is, but yes! We have successfully corrupted Steve! To "KiyaNamiel": Thank you, I definitely will! To "Guest": I bet you're not complaining about those Captain America dreams! Thanks! To "inperfection": Thank you! To "Kelsoc": Glad you ship it too! I'm glad you think it's complicated in the best way! To "Whitelion69": I don't think any of us here would mind waking up in Bucky's arms - I sure wouldn't! To "the avengette": Glad you're excited! And yes, Steve is a shipper! To "lozzabozzaera": I'm not sure yet, but it might be more than just** ** _similar_** **. (Shh!) To "callieandjack": Thanks dear! My final went great! To "daringwolf2000": Thank you! Glad you agree! To "Angelbaby1231": Really? Awesome! And yeah, in front of her family (just her grandma) is going to be good.**

 **Thanks, all, for reading and being so enthusiastic! I'm so happy y'all are enjoying it! Leave a comment if you'd like, and feel free to ask me any questions if something wasn't clear!**


	5. 5 Bucky's Perspective

Steve and Bucky stood a few feet down the hallway from Cass's apartment door. "I assume you're excited?" Steve asked.

Bucky smiled, faking innocence. "What do you mean?"

"I've known you longer than anyone. I can tell when you have a crush on someone. And Buck, you've been crushing on Cass since the day I introduced you to her and she didn't cringe away from your arm."

Bucky scoffed bitterly. "So what if I have? It doesn't make a difference to _her_. She doesn't know. This is just a good opportunity to get to know her and hopefully put my feelings to rest when it's done."

Steve shrugged. "Okay," he conceded. "Just realize that you're going to be 'pretending' to be hopelessly in love with her for the next month, and when it comes to an end, your heart is going to break—and maybe hers will too. Just… be careful. The last thing I want is my best friend's heart to shatter into a million pieces and leave only the cold Winter Soldier behind." The captain gave Bucky a very pointed look.

Bucky sighed. "I know. Trust me. I know," he muttered. "When she called yesterday morning and I agreed to this, I was half-asleep and I thought I was dreaming. Then I properly woke up and realized she was dead serious and I was wondering what I'd done." The ex-Russian assassin paused for a moment. "I _held her_ last night, Steve. While we both slept. She drove away the nightmares. I slept through the night. Sometime I subconsciously grabbed her and held her to me—so tightly that my good arm was sore when I woke up. Even then I thought I was dreaming. I know this won't last forever, but I plan on enjoying every minute of it."

"And this won't torture you?"

Bucky shrugged. "I've been through worse."

"If Cass breaks your heart, what HYDRA did to you is going to _pale_ against how you feel after this. Nothing they did will hold a candle to how this could feel," Steve commented.

Bucky scoffed again. "How do you know? You don't know everything they did to me. _I_ don't know everything they did to me—but I know they must have done something because I have the scars to show for it." He looked frustrated so Steve backed off. He put his hands up in surrender.

"Okay. I'm just trying to make sure you know what you're getting into."

"Steve. It's Cass. I have _no clue_ what I'm getting into."

The captain chuckled. "Okay. Just know that I think you two are _really_ good together."

They went strolling casually back into her apartment.

Bucky had to stop walking as Steve closed the door behind them. Cass was leaning over the TV cabinet on her tiptoes, adjusting the two pictures on top of it in a probable attempt to see what looked best. She was biting her lip in concentration.

Her shirt had pulled up in the back as she stretched her arms as far as they could go, revealing a strip of exposed pale skin about an inch wide. He could see how smooth it looked and just catch a glimpse of her muscles rolling under her skin as she shifted back and forth on her toes to reach the frames. "Hey boys," she called over her shoulder, totally oblivious. Her thick brown hair was long enough that it nearly brushed that little bit of skin as she tilted her head back to throw her voice towards them.

"Hey Cass," Steve greeted, giving Bucky a strong nudge with his elbow to jog him out of his staring contest with her back. He shook his head to clear it but didn't move his gaze.

"Am I allowed to ask what you guys were talking about?" she asked amusedly.

"I'd rather you didn't," Steve admitted as Bucky finally managed to tear his eyes away.

"Nothing that would endanger the world I assume?"

Bucky shrugged. "Probably not." He couldn't make any guarantees, of course, but he was pretty sure that if he ended the month-long performance heart-broken he wouldn't destroy the planet.

Cass laughed and gave them a look over her shoulder. "How does this look? I mean, there's always a chance that Grandma won't notice, but she'll probably be expecting me to be in some sort of domestic bliss of homemaking or something. Even though she knows I'm not like that."

Bucky had no idea what she was talking about, but he nodded. "They look fine right where they are," he told her. "Honestly I don't even care." Cass snickered.

"Though the wedding one could be a little more to the right to make it symmetrical," Steve added.

Cass adjusted it. "Like that?"

"Better," Steve agreed.

"Thanks!"

"So, do you want me to stick around for a while or should I leave the lovebirds to their nest?" Steve asked, almost teasing. Cass whirled around—hair flying out like a fan—and glared at him. Her dark eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Captain Steven Grant Rogers, I swear if you keep making jokes like that I will _throw you out a window,_ " she snapped darkly. There was a genuine threat in her voice. Bucky wasn't quite sure what she was on about but he suspected it had something to do with all the shouting he'd heard while he was in the shower that morning and whatever _shipping_ was that Steve had been talking about yesterday. Steve, in all his good humor, put his hands up in surrender again.

"Then I'll take my leave before that happens," he commented. "See you two whenever I see you!" Captain America dodged out the door.

Cass seethed for a moment. "Impossible man," she muttered under her breath even though Bucky could still hear it with his enhanced senses. He crossed over the living room floor and gave her a comforting hug. Hesitantly she returned his embrace. "Might as well practice knowing how to be affectionate around each other I guess," she commented in explanation of her hugging him back.

Bucky grinned and laughed. "I was thinking the exact same thing."

* * *

 **End Note: One of my favorite text posts from Tumblr is, "It isn't fanfiction unless Main Character has to tear their eyes away from that one inch of exposed skin they see when Love Interest casually stretches their arms."**

 **To "inperfection": Thank you very much! I love your enthusiasm! To "Guest": Glad you don't mind the Captain America dreams. The only dream I've had featuring him was when he was laughing at me because Loki was demanding that I marry him (no more cocoa before bed for me!). And you are not weird! Fangirl all you want! To "RangerHorseTug": Oh. My. Gosh. Did I seriously just make someone's OTP?! AAAAHHHHH! Thank you! To "daringwolf2000": I'm glad you think it's funny! Usually when I try for humorous I end up falling a little flat. To "Kelsoc": Yes, I will be updating UaVS3 (and BTW, you're not the first person to accidentally refer to Violet-Sky as "Cass"). I keep meaning to do that and then I forget. I'll get right on it. Thanks for reminding me! (Also embrace your sisters' girly phrases! They do not detract from manhood!) To "KiyaNamiel": I'm pretty sure everyone here ships it too! Glad you think it's adorable! To "candycrum": So glad you love it! And are looking forward to what's coming next! To "RussianAssassin": I figured Phase Two was a joke, my sarcasm just tends to get lost in text. Apologies. I'm super excited that you "wike" it - especially because I get the joke! (Oh Chris Evans, how I love you.) By "bringing 1940's Bucky into this one" I assume you mean the dancing, correct? To "Whitelion69": Thank you! To "callieandjack": I think whatever is telling you that is probably correct... ;-) To "Guest": Yesssss!**

 **Thank you to all, for reading and putting up with me! I honestly didn't expect this thing to garner so much reaction! Holy Hannah! As always, leave a comment if you have one, or a question if something wasn't clear! Until next time!**

 **(PS: Went and saw the new Star Wars on Monday -** ** _I died! I am such a frickin' nerd and I don't care because AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!)_**


	6. 6 Arrival

When I woke up the next morning, safely snuggled in Bucky's powerful grip, lying on my left side with my back pressed against his warm, bare chest, I only had one thought in my head.

 _Here we go_.

Gran was arriving in… I glanced at my watch.

"Shoot!" I hissed with a jolt of realization, waking Bucky. My tone must have triggered his danger instinct because he leapt out of the bed and struck his combat pose. It looked a bit ridiculous with his lovely bedhead and plaid flannel pajama pants, but his eyes looked dark and ready for action. When he realized there was no immediate threat, he turned to see me scrambling to get out of the covers.

"What's wrong?" he demanded.

"Gran's plane is arriving in an hour and I forgot to set an alarm so I'd be ready!"

"Ah."

I threw my clothes on, brushed my hair, and started a quick breakfast while Bucky took a shower. He came out in a close-fitting T-shirt, jeans, sneakers—an improvement towards normalcy from combat boots—and his leather jacket just as I finished making breakfast. We ate quickly and brushed our teeth at the same time. I ran my fingers through his overlong hair to get out the tangles he'd missed and we were rushing out the door.

"Cass!" he called as I grabbed my purse off the coat rack. He threw my leather jacket at me. I caught it and yanked it on.

"Thanks! I would have totally forgotten it otherwise!" I exclaimed.

Next thing I knew, we were on the crowded subway, making our way towards the airport. We were holding onto the hanging straps and Bucky's metal arm was protectively circling my waist, holding me close every time I wobbled since I have no coordination on a moving train.

As we reached the airport, I pulled Bucky to a stop. "We forgot to discuss where we went on our honeymoon," I told him, holding his hand and his wrist.

"Cape Cod," he answered.

"Sounds good."

And we quickly trotted into the building where we would meet my grandma.

This time, Bucky's normal hand rested on the small of my back, making it look at least somewhat like we were married. He scanned the crowds—being a lot taller than I was—but I knew he didn't know what my grandmother looked like. So it was probably a futile effort. I rocked up onto my tiptoes and looked around myself, craning my neck. "Would it help if you got on my shoulders?" he asked.

"It might help her see us," I remarked sarcastically.

He crouched down. "Okay then. Get up."

I put my legs on either side of his neck. He held my shins with his hands like I was a little kid and stood almost effortlessly—a testament to his strength given I'm not exactly a pixie. I looked around at the people all around us, ignoring the stares people were giving me. "Is this what it's like to be tall?" I inquired jokingly. I felt him chuckle more than I heard him. I peered around at the faces, checking the time and the flight boards. It said hers had landed on time. _I hope she's okay,_ I thought to myself. _If her knee blew out while she was getting off the plane—_

"Is that my butterfly?" I heard a familiar voice ask from off to my left side. I turned my head to see a woman in her early nineties with a little bag in her hand. She was wearing a simple red-and-white striped shirt and cloth trousers.

"Gramma, don't you think I'm a little old to be called 'butterfly'?" I exclaimed. Bucky turned his body so he was facing her. He knelt down and I slid off his shoulders.

I closed the distance between me and my father's mother and gave her a big hug.

"You'll never be too old to be my butterfly, Cassie," Gran told me. I smirked and buried my face in her shirt. She smelled like my childhood—chocolate chip cookies and the backyard. I saw flashes of growing up in a split second while I smiled and felt tears think about swimming to my eyes. "You're my beautiful, delicate, bright creature."

I chuckled. "Thanks Gramma."

"And who is this handsome stud?" she asked, almost teasingly.

I pulled out of the hug and turned to see Bucky smiling, close-lipped but eyes crinkled at the corners.

"This is my husband, James Barnes," I introduced, trying not to hitch my voice on the word _husband_ and probably failing. "Bucky, this is my grandmother, Eleanor Howell." I sort of waved my hand vaguely between my grandmother and Bucky as I mentioned their names.

I felt really awkward.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Howell," Bucky greeted, putting his normal hand out for her to shake.

She took his hand and yanked him into a hug. "C'mere, young man! You're family!" Awkwardly, he hugged her back, doing his best not to freak out I could tell. He wasn't used to _friendly_ after seventy years of being a HYDRA assassin. Sure he'd been huggy and kissy with me, but we were friends and he had… well… a mission. This was something different and I could tell it was stressing him.

"Gran," I nudged gently. "Don't scare him off."

She pulled back. "Nice to meet you too, James Barnes!"

"Please, call me Bucky. Everyone does."

"Alright then, Bucky!" My gramma leaned towards me. "You sure landed a handsome one, butterfly," she murmured in my ear. I saw Bucky smirk for a moment, showing he heard too.

"Thanks," I replied, trying to keep the guilty blush off my face. "Let's go get your luggage!"

Bucky held his hand out for me. He was carefully keeping his metal hand in his pocket so onlookers wouldn't notice. I took his flesh fingers and held out my other hand for my grandma—I wouldn't want to lose her in the JFK crowds. That would be bad.

As we walked towards baggage claim, Bucky started talking—about me. "Your granddaughter is a truly remarkable young woman, Ms. Howell. I went through some bad experiences in the last several years that left me plagued with nightmares, but just being near her makes them go away," he told my gran while I blushed furiously. He was almost playing his part a little _too_ well.

"That's my bright and happy girl!" Gran said decisively.

"Gramma you're embarrassing me!" I muttered. She snickered.

"That's my job sweetie!" We had just reached the baggage claim. "And that's my bag!" She pointed at an orangey tie-dye suitcase. Bucky pulled his free hand out of his pocket and lifted it effortlessly off the carousel.

"Shall we?" he inquired politely, gesturing with our clasped hands towards the exit.

I could sense that the amount of people was making him edgy.

"Yes. Please. All these people make an old lady paranoid," Gran replied. I smiled and the three of us left the building.

We caught a cab back to my apartment. "Welcome back to New York, Gramma," I told her as we drove past Avengers Tower and Times Square and whatever. I sat between her and Bucky, watching her reaction to the city. "When was the last time you were here?"

"Oh, butterfly, I haven't been around these parts since I was younger than you."

When we got to my building, we took the elevator up to my apartment and set her suitcase in the spare bedroom. "You'll probably wanna get some rest," I commented. "I imagine you've been up for a while and travelling is hard." My grandmother gave me a big warm hug and a lipsticky kiss on the cheek. "Gran!" I protested.

"You're too sweet to me, butterfly."

"Get some rest. Bucky and I will be here when you wake up." I retreated from the spare room.

* * *

 **End Note: I had something really important to say about this thing, but now I can't remember what it was. Oops. Maybe next time. Maybe not. It's like that one time I had a really good boomerang joke. It'll come back to me.**

 **To "inperfection": Yes, protective Stevie is kinda cute right? Almost as cute as protective Bucky. (Happy holidays to you as well!) To "daringwolf2000": Thank you for making me feel better about my attempts at humor! To "RussianAssassin": As far as I know, I am not you from the future, but that would be interesting. That was simply me taking a shot in the dark at what you were meaning. To "Guest": Should I apologize for your family freaking out at your fangirling or should I be flattered? (I'm choosing to be flattered until further notice.) To "Kelsoc": So your life is just a big fanfic then? ;-) That's the best. I dream in fanfic sometimes but living it sounds a bit more fun. To "KiyaNamiel": I ship them pretty hard too! Merry Christmas! To "RangerHorseTug": I watch both of those shows. I will admit that is a strange ship, but I've heard of stranger, so I suppose it could be worse? And... we'll see what happens to them in the end... To "Whitelion69": Thank you! Hope you enjoyed Star Wars! To "candycrum": Thank you! I'm sure you're not the only one looking forward to what's coming (which is kind of weird for me to think about because while I'm proud of my works, I never really thought people would enjoy them _this much!_ ) To "callieandjack": Well, my friend, now you get to see what happens! ;-) To "Angelbaby1231": They are kinda cute aren't they? We'll see what happens... I can't spoil anything!**

 **Thank you! Leave a comment or a question if you have one!**


	7. 7 Dream Catcher

Travelling gets harder the older one gets. Gramma slept all day and all night, leaving me and Bucky to our own devices until the next morning. So we milled about the apartment and ate and watched a movie quietly and such—we busied ourselves. That night, we got in the covers and fell asleep, a little closer than the night before, but still far enough away we wouldn't disturb the other.

The next morning, I woke up on my right side. Bucky was sleeping on his back and my head was using his bare chest like a pillow while my hand rested on his abdomen.

Or. Wait.

No.

Bucky wasn't sleeping.

He was awake, playing with my hair with his metal hand. His normal one was on my shoulder. I could feel its warmth through my T-shirt. "You really do make the nightmares go away," he commented when he realized I was awake. I smiled tiredly, feeling a bit awkward that we were in such a cuddly position when we weren't actually _together_ , but I was just tired enough that I couldn't really bring myself to care because where I was felt good and comfortable.

"Mmm," I mumbled, turning my head up so I could see his face.

He smiled. "You're adorable in the morning."

"Why? 'Cause my hair's a mess and I look like death?"

"No. Because your eyes are calm and your face is soft and your guard is down and there's minimal sarcasm."

I snorted. "Thanks. I guess."

He rubbed his flesh thumb over my T-shirt and hummed thoughtfully. I could feel his chest vibrating under my cheek. "I don't mind this," he commented after a while. "This… sleeping all the way through the night thing. It's not so bad having someone who keeps the nightmares away." He shifted so he was holding me tighter against his side. "I think I'm going to call you my Dream Catcher."

I smiled and nuzzled closer against him. "You're really warm," I muttered.

"Mmm," he agreed. I relaxed further into his halo of heat and traced the lines of his abdomen muscles with my finger, starting to doze off again.

 _Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock!_ Rapid-fire knocks echoed off the front door, followed by the visitor apparently figuring out that I do, in fact, have a doorbell. _Ding-dong!_ I sighed heavily as Bucky rolled out of bed.

"Can we never just have a peaceful morning?" he wondered.

"'We'?" I teased tiredly.

"You know what I mean," he snapped, leaving the bedroom to go answer the door while I slid out of bed and pulled my robe on over my PJs.

"Bucky?! What are you doing here?" That was Natasha's voice. "Just as importantly, why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

I could almost sense Bucky blushing. "Did Steve or Tony not tell you?"

"No…" she trailed off. I emerged from the bedroom to see the fully-dressed redheaded assassin clashing strangely with the half-dressed brunet ex-assassin. Natasha raised her eyebrows when she saw me loosely tying my robe. "Is there something going on between you two?" There was a note of teasing in her tone. Then her eyes caught sight of the ring on my finger and the other one on Bucky's metal hand. "When did this happen?"

"No, no! My grandma's visiting for a month and she asked if I'd gotten married yet," I explained, dropping my voice so hopefully my sleeping grandmother wouldn't be woken in the spare room. "And I panicked and said yes and Bucky's agreed to pretend to be my husband." Natasha's eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Okay then," she commented. "I was just coming to see how you were doing, but I guess you're more than okay so I'll… just… be going." She moved to leave. I glanced at Bucky. He shrugged. So we closed the door after she called her goodbye.

I got a text from her a moment later that said, _I ship it._

I went back into the master bedroom and face-planted my side of the bed. After a moment I felt Bucky's weight sit beside me. His normal hand traced patterns on my back. "Go back to sleep, doll," he murmured. "You're tired."

"No I'm not," I protested. "I didn't do anything that would make me tired!"

"You've been very emotionally stressed the past few days. Go back to sleep. I'll wake you when breakfast is ready."

I scoffed. "You know how to make breakfast?"

"Yup."

"Okay then."

His warm hand stayed on my shoulder blade until I dropped back off.

The next thing I knew, someone was kissing me, over and over on my cheek and temple. "Morning, sweetheart," Bucky's voice murmured quietly. "Time to start the day now." Gently his prosthetic hand took mine. The metal plates were cold. It made my eyes open to see him leaned over me, bright blue eyes glimmering with humor. I blinked tiredly. "Come on. Your grandmother is awake and it's time to wake up." He'd put on a shirt but still had on his flannel pajama pants.

I groaned with complaint and held my arms out for him when I saw the door was open and my grandma was sitting in the kitchen with her breakfast.

Bucky leaned down and let me wrap my hands around his neck. He grabbed the backs of my knees and held them to his hips. He straightened almost effortlessly and held me up and took me out of the bedroom. My ankles locked around his back and I rested my head against his flesh shoulder.

"Aw!" Gran exclaimed. "How sweet!"

Bucky chuckled and set me down in the chair across the table from her and next to him. He set a plate of breakfast in front of me and kissed the top of my head. I blushed the color of a ripe strawberry.

"You know, I think I dated an Eleanor when I was younger," Bucky commented.

"How much younger?" Gran asked, teasingly.

"I don't know. Seventy five years maybe," he answered.

"Are you making fun of an old lady?"

Bucky raised his eyebrows. "Not at all! I was born in nineteen-seventeen."

Gran looked confused to say the least. "I don't understand," she commented.

"We should probably explain," I remarked to my "husband".

"Right. Yeah," he muttered, licking his lips—a habit he had that I wouldn't admit to him but I found insanely attractive. He straightened up and looked my grandmother straight in the eye. "Do you remember when SHIELD collapsed because of the Winter Soldier and HYDRA?"

"Yes, it was all over the news."

Bucky hesitated for a moment. "Well, _I'm_ the Winter Soldier," he admitted. "I was born James Buchanan Barnes in Brooklyn in nineteen-seventeen, the oldest of four. I was a sergeant in World War Two, turned HYDRA prisoner, turned Howling Commando under Captain America. Then in nineteen-forty-five I fell off the side of a moving train into a ravine and lost my left arm. HYDRA found me, gave me this thing—" He gestured to his prosthetic. "—and brainwashed me into being their assassin for seventy years. I was put in cryogenic freeze between missions and then I was woken to take down SHIELD but Captain Rogers took out HYDRA instead and I disappeared. Captain Rogers found me recently and helped me get my memories back. It was quite an ordeal." He was so nonchalant about the way he spoke I was almost confused. Any time I had thought about talking to him about his past I thought it would be too sensitive a subject and kept my trap shut.

"So then… how did you two meet?"

"Captain Rogers—Steve—introduced us. Cass works as an assistant to the Avengers, as I'm sure you know, and she knew Steve really well and he introduced me to her and… the rest is history."

We spent the day telling Gramma Howell all about our lives since we met and everything—making most of it up and playing off each other, each secretly memorizing details—and then we went out to dinner. It was lovely and we were just early enough that it wasn't packed. Then again it _was_ New York so there were lots of people there anyway.

It was a good day and a good evening, but I was grateful when I got to go home and go to bed.

* * *

 **End Note: I know I updated like two days ago, but consider this my New Year's gift to all of you. May your 2016 CE be better than your 2015 CE.**

 **Bucky is a sweetheart. (And who wouldn't wanna run their fingers over those abs, if you will allow me to be shallow and/or objectifying for a moment?) I had a couple people asking if Gramma knows Cass works for the Avengers. Yes she does. I figured the Avengers aren't exactly a secret so might as well let the young woman who works with them brag to her family. *shrugs***

 **To "daringwolf2000": ... Yeah. I couldn't resist the really stupid boomerang joke. I'm sorry. I'm glad you like her gramma! To "Guest": He was hiding his arm from onlookers more than he was hiding from Gran. In the first chapter Cass mentioned that Gran would believe that she married Bucky because he's the "bad boy". And you should always fangirl as much as you like! To "RangerHorseTug": *blushes* Thank you! To "KiyaNamiel": They'll confess... eventually. No telling exactly when. Steve will be playing matchmaker a little later. To "inperfection": Grandmas' jobs are to be embarrassing. To "Angelbaby1231": I think she's old enough to remember "Captain America" (Steve's _technically_ in his mid- to late-nineties and Gran's in her early nineties) but I haven't decided yet if she actually _knew_ them. To "Kelsoc": Reviews like yours make _my_ day! And don't _ever_ let your friends convince you this is a waste of time. For people like me, it's how we cope, reading and writing. If you want to go pro with sports and write on the side, do it! But don't let them convince you this is pointless. It's a good way to cope! (And thanks to Google Translate, I'm going to say to you, "Mult Noroc!" - sorry if it's wrong!) To "Darkwitch16": Ahhhhhhh! You're too sweet to me! That was so sweet! I loved it! Thank you for the review! To "Whitelion69": Glad you liked Star Wars! Thank you! To "RussianAssassin": It's not too awkward because like I said, the Avengers are no secret and she asked Bucky instead of Steve for a reason! To "callieandjack": LOL! Yeah, I kinda wanted her to be the grandma I didn't really have (none of mine are particularly embarrassing and I have three...).**

 **Thank you so much! Leave a comment if you have one!**


	8. 8 Nightmares and Texting

Bucky woke up at about two-thirty in the morning, gasping—deep and painful—and lashing out of a nightmare. His metal arm thrashed, jerking up and then flinging back down, but Cass was lying on top of it so the only thing that happened was he practically threw her on top of him. She awoke with a start and looked up at him. "Nightmare?" she asked gently, keeping her voice low so they didn't wake her grandmother.

He laughed once, bitterly. "I knew it couldn't last," he muttered, shamelessly staring at the spot where her T-shirt's collar had slipped over enough to reveal most of her shoulder, instead of looking in her eyes—which were so dark in the night that they appeared to be two black holes.

Instead of getting off of him like he expected, she rubbed his shoulder with her thumb and relaxed. "Go back to sleep. It was just a dream. I'm right here," she murmured tenderly, resting her head just below his so his chin was buried in her thick, messy hair. She tucked her hands under his back and her body dropped deadweight—she was sleeping again.

Bucky didn't immediately go back to sleep. He truly had known that holding Cass in his arms while he slept would never be quite enough to drive the nightmares away. He'd been through too much.

But the nightmare that had woken him wasn't his usual breed of monster. Usually he dreamt of his time in HYDRA—previous missions, assassinations, torture both by him and on him, fear and confusion with a blank memory. This was different. It reminded him of his time with HYDRA, but it wasn't a memory.

It was a true nightmare.

It was Cass, strapped to a chair in one of her favorite dresses—a white thing with vibrant floral-like designs in all sorts of colors all over it—but it was torn and ragged. She was barefoot. Her slightly-wavy hair was hanging scraggily on either side of her face—which was covered in dirt, bruises, and blood. Makeup like the kind she saved for important events the Avengers attended had been on, but smudged and faded. There was a cut on her forehead and her lower lip was split. She was breathing with difficulty, like she couldn't quite get enough air. But when she looked up at him, there was darkness in her murderous eyes. "Do your worst, _Winter Soldier_ ," she'd spat.

"I can do that," he'd retorted. His left hand _backhanded_ her across the face, sending her head snapping to the side and back. She grimaced in pain and then turned back to him, grinning wickedly.

"I could do this all day," she'd commented nonchalantly.

"I'm sure you can. But I can do this longer," he'd snapped.

He _beat her to a pulp_ while she was helpless to fight back. When he finally slowed down, her face looked like some dramatically scarlet modern art.

And she wasn't breathing.

Bucky pulled himself back to the present as Cass slightly stirred on top of him, sending some of her hair tickling his sides. He wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest like she was an over-sized teddy bear. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled the scent of her shampoo and conditioner. His eyes drifted lazily closed and he felt himself going back to sleep.

In the blink of an eye morning light was peeking through the closed blinds. Bucky felt like he hadn't gotten any sleep. He hated nights like that. But he was still gripping Cass, lying on his right side instead of the usual left. He must have rolled to the other side while he was out. He watched her as she kept dreaming, face peaceful with a tiny worry line between her eyebrows.

He kissed her forehead a few times to wake her up. "Psst," he whispered. "It's time to wake up, beautiful." He squeezed her in his grip a little tighter. She cooed tiredly and her eyes fluttered open, dark but bright.

"Is it morning?" she muttered, nuzzling closer into his chest and his warmth.

"Yeah," he answered.

"Can't we just sleep in?"

"We could, but what about your grandmother?"

"She'll live. She's here for a month."

"Are you sure?" Bucky murmured.

"Mmhmm," Cass replied. In seconds she'd dropped back to sleep. He stared at her peaceful face for several moments before kissing her gently on her soft, closed lips, pulling her closer like a teddy bear, and drifting back off himself.

When he woke up again, Cass was back on her side of the bed, leaned against the headboard, reading a book. "Whatcha readin'?" Bucky asked curiously. Her fingers were covering too much of the back cover and he couldn't quite read the spine.

" _The Martian_ ," she replied. Bucky nodded. He, Cass, and Steve had gone to see the movie a couple weeks ago. Steve knew he and Bucky would probably have a hard time understanding the plot without some assistance so they'd dragged Cass along. It was a really intense movie—but one of the characters kind of weirded Bucky out. He looked familiar but Bucky couldn't place why and it had frustrated him.

After watching her read for a moment—during which a blush crept over her cheeks as she realized he was staring—Bucky grabbed his phone off the bedside table and texted Steve.

 _Why do monsters fall in love more easily than angels?_

 _Is this the beginning of a joke or are you being serious? Because I can never tell with a text._

 _I'm being serious._

There was a long pause in which Steve was probably thinking of something to say. After several long moments, Bucky's phone gave one brief vibration in his hand.

 _Because monsters see the good—and the light—in the world and want it. Angels already have the light and it makes it harder for them to see._ Bucky read Steve's text and nodded with approval as another one popped up under it. _How's that for poetic, Mr. "To the End of the Line"?_ Bucky chuckled and Steve sent another text. _Why do you ask, anyway? Something about Cass being the angel to your monster?_

 _Something like that._

 _You are such a SAP._

 _I like that you think I don't know that. I brought her a red rose when she first asked me to come do this._

 _… Really, Buck? Could you be any cheesier? The fact that she DOESN'T know you've got a crush on her is absolutely ASTOUNDING._

 _Random question: is the whole team in on the story now?_

 _Pretty much. Tony texted everyone. Why?_

 _Wondering if we should take Cass's gran to visit the team._

 _Might as well._

 _Thanks Steve. Maybe we'll see you at the Tower later today._

 _Tony says he's already planning a welcome party for this evening. So I'd better see you later today._

"Who are you texting?" Cass asked, sounding only half-interested as she turned a page.

"Steve."

"Ah. And does the good captain have anything to say that I need to know?"

"Yeah. Tony wants to throw a party tonight at the Tower to welcome your Gran to the Big Apple," Bucky replied. Cass groaned slightly and planted her face in her book for a moment before withdrawing it and sighing. Bucky kissed her temple and was slightly shocked when she didn't argue that he didn't need to because there was no one there to pretend for.

"I guess it's time to get up, then," she muttered.

* * *

 **End Note: Bucky's sweet. I've actually read The Martian. After I saw the movie. Oops. Both were good! (And *SPOILERS (but not really?)* Sebastian Stan is one of the characters. That's why Bucky's a bit perturbed by it. I couldn't help myself. *END SPOILERS*). One more side note: I responded to everyone's reviews and then my computer wouldn't save it and I lost all of them so... yay -_- *sighs heavily because really computer?!* Time to try this again? (They'll be slightly shorter than they were because I'm no longer in the mood to type everything word-for-word again. Sorry.)**

 **To "daringwolf2000": Haha! Glad I made you laugh at Natasha's text! And also glad you like her gramma! To "Guest": You're welcome! And yeah... nobody in their right mind would be bothered. ;-P To "callieandjack": You know, my friend, running your fingers over _Steve_ 's abs can be arranged (... ;-D). To "KiyaNamiel": Happy New Year to you as well! I've never read The Book Thief (tried) but glad you liked it! To "RangerHorseTug": Happy New Year! To "Kelsoc": No offense, I'm not typing out your whole username. I'm proud of you for getting an actual profile! And really?! Favorite chapter?! Thank you my friend! To "candycrum": Thank you! Happy New Year! To "Whitelion69": Thank you! And yeah... Gran wouldn't be mad at Cass for "marrying" Bucky. I think Gran herself had a thing for bad boys back in her day... ;-) To "Jade (Guest)": Thank you so much! Happy to hear you like it!**

 **Y'all make my day! Thank you for reading! Leave a comment if you have one or a question if something wasn't clear!**

 **(PS, the line is _actually_ "To the end of the line" not "Till the end of the line". I watched it with the subtitles on. Plus, grammatically, "to the end of the line makes more sense. "Till" makes it sound like, "once we reach the end, we'll part ways". But "to" means "we are sticking together all the way to the end".)**


	9. 9 Party at the Tower

Gran was _over. The. Flipping. Moon_. To be invited to a party at the Avengers Tower. She knew I worked as an assistant to the Avengers (as well as occasionally substituting for a Public Relations director even though I knew nothing about PR—I just operated on logic of "No, Tony, you cannot post that on Facebook. Pepper will kill you." And, "Do not let Clint be in charge of his verified Twitter account. He'll just put up pictures of pizza and his bed with bad puns attached."), but she hadn't expected they'd be kind enough to throw a party in her honor.

But we slipped into the Tower as the sun was going down, dressed fairly nicely, and ready.

Or rather, Gramma Howell was ready. Bucky and I weren't exactly looking forward to three or more hours of putting up with all the Avengers in one room with an open bar.

When we told Gramma that, she looked me dead in the eye and said, "You married just the right person for you, then, butterfly."

A blush of guilt crept up my neck but Gran didn't see it because she was already pushing the button on the elevator that would take us up to the party. I didn't tell her that the reason I was so concerned was if the Avengers got too drunk, they might spill the secret that Bucky and I weren't actually married.

Bucky was holding my hand in his flesh one, staring down at me. "You look beautiful," he complimented. Another blush tinted my cheekbones.

I was wearing a knee-length black dress with cap sleeves and a poofy skirt and black flats, coupled with a silver necklace, bracelet, and ring on my right hand ring finger. My wedding ring was still on my left. It was weird how over the past couple days I'd really gotten used to wearing it that I didn't even notice it anymore. "Thank you. You look very handsome," I replied. He was wearing a casual suit with navy trousers, a white button-up with the top unbuttoned, jacket hanging open, and a deep blue tie worn loose. He'd put up a fuss with wearing the tie—said it was like a noose he'd tied around his own neck. We argued like an actual married couple (quietly 'cause Gran was in the other room) but he finally relented when I reminded him it would be just us and the team.

"Thanks," he muttered as the elevator _ding_ ed and the three of us got in.

We rode up to the floor just above the jet hangar and got out. Cheers arose from the team when my grandmother was the first to get out. She blushed and thanked everyone while I grinned from behind her. She was a good woman with a lot of spunk for being in her early nineties, and she deserved all the attention. Or at least, I thought she did. It was great to see her having such a good time.

Theatrically, Tony swept over to us in his best tuxedo and offered my grandmother his hand, "May I escort you about the room, my lady?" he asked with his best Sherlock Holmes-y British accent.

Gran blushed even deeper. "Oh… well… thank you!" she exclaimed, taking Tony's arm. He whisked her—slowly—around the floor, introducing her to the team while Bucky and I trailed in a bit slower—ignoring the looks Steve, Natasha, and even Sam were giving us—me holding his arm to make sure the whole team remembered that there was a story to remember.

"What's your grandmother's maiden name?" Bucky asked as Thor kissed her hand.

"Wilson. Eleanor Wilson Howell. Why?"

"Like I said yesterday, I think I dated an Eleanor back in the forties. And I'm trying to remember if she looked like you. I know she was younger than me by like four or five years. _Wilson…_ "

"Are you saying you think you dated my gramma?" I questioned. "Don't you think she'd remember you if you did? I mean, I know 'James Barnes' was probably not an entirely unpopular name, but I think she'd remember if she dated a guy named Bucky who looks as _dang_ _handsome_ as you do." I clapped my hands over my mouth. "That didn't quite come out right. I didn't mean to say it like that. I'm sorry," I apologized, voice slightly muffled through my fingers.

Bucky chuckled and tugged on a lock of my hair. "It's okay, sweetheart. I know what you meant. And thank you for the compliment," he replied.

I was so embarrassed I didn't say anything else. Gramma just came and sat on my other side so I was smooshed between her and Bucky. "You didn't tell me they were all so nice," she commented. I rubbed the back of my neck.

"They're nice. But not always," I told her. Images of a destroyed gym after a particularly violent game of dodgeball flashed through my head. Clint, Bucky, and Natasha had teamed up against everybody and _wrought havoc_ over everything. I wasn't even playing and several times I'd gotten nailed in the face—I was just on standby in case someone needed an ambulance.

After a few more minutes of socializing in which I was pulled to my feet and off to the side by both Steve and Natasha asking how I was doing and how Bucky was coping with the whole fake-married thing, Tony rang a crystal goblet with the not-sharp side of a knife. "Your attention please, ladies, gentlemen, and honored guest!" he called. Silence fell over the superheroes—and me and Gran—as Bucky joined me next to where I was standing by Natasha. "It is my honor to present to you Eleanor Howell, grandmother of our _distinguished_ assistant, Cass, and grandmother-in-law to our very own Winter Soldier!" Everyone clapped. There were a few cheers and whistles. "And now, it is also my honor to present the dinner for this evening!"

The door to the public elevator _ding_ ed and opened to the catering staff all in fine attire. There were more whistles and cheers from the team of hungry heroes. The staff set up the food in a buffet style and retreated to the far walls where they would stay until someone needed their help.

"Want me to grab you a plate?" Bucky asked.

"You know what? I'll let everyone else go first," I replied.

"Yeah, that's a nice idea and all, but ladies first," Steve remarked as he came over to where we were standing by Natasha. I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to protest, but the redheaded assassin grabbed my wrist and all but dragged me over to the buffet table. Before I could object any more, she shoved a plate into my hands and dropped a roll on top of it so I couldn't put it back. I pursed my lips in irritation.

"If they're going to be gentlemen," the Black Widow started, almost whispering. "Then we might as well let them. It's as deeply ingrained in their instincts as blocking a punch." Gramma was ahead of us in line. Wanda, Pepper, and Maria Hill were all behind. After the ladies, the men all got in line, chuckling and playfully pushing each other around—except Bucky and Steve.

After I made up my plate, I sat down on a sofa and put it on my lap, munching idly on a piece of chicken. Natasha sat on the ottoman across from me and kept giving me smirks. She had a martini glass on the floor between her feet.

"Did you get a drink?" she asked curiously.

"I don't drink, you know that," I retorted.

"I know you don't drink _alcohol_ , Miss Goody-Two-Shoes," she snapped good-humoredly. "We have soda and lemonades—I know you like strawberry lemonade."

I shrugged. "I'm okay for now. Getting a drink requires getting up and I'm too lazy."

"Ah, yes, but remember, kiddo, you have a husband—who is not only a super-soldier, but also already standing," she remarked sarcastically with a mischievous twinkle in her green eyes. Before I could tell her not to, she threw her hair over her shoulder to turn her face. "Hey Bucky! Grab your wife a strawberry lemonade from behind the counter please!" Bucky nodded while I glared daggers at Natasha. Her murder glare was about eight billion times more terrifying than mine but I was fed up with her pushing me around.

Balancing his own plate on his metal hand with two drinks in his flesh one, Bucky sat next to me and passed me the bottle of dark pink-red lemonade. "Thank you," I remarked while still glaring at Natasha—who was grinning impishly. When Bucky looked down at his plate to transfer it to his knees, the redheaded assassin winked at me and mouthed, _I still ship it._ I rolled my eyes and shoved another bite of chicken into my mouth, already done with the team.

* * *

 **End Note: Party's not over yet! (Also, see what I did there with Tony and Sherlock? No? Okay...)**

 **To "daringwolf2000": I hope it was as interesting as it seemed to be promising to be! To "RussianAssassin": I thought The Martian was Marvel too sometimes during it. Why did "Beck" kill you? To "AssembleCHB": Don't worry about not reviewing sooner. I understand how crazy Christmas Breaks is. Have you** ** _read_** **my one-shot Collection? I might have an angst one in there somewhere. Super glad you liked the texting with Steve. I tried to make it as in-character as possible (at least how I've characterized them for this story). To "candycrum": Thank you, my friend! To "Whitelion69": An Avengers party going off 100% without trouble would be near impossible. We'll see. To "KiyaNamiel": Yeah. I thought about making this story like pure BuckCass/Casscky fluff that only** ** _occasionally featured_** **the other Avengers, but then I thought, 'Why not throw them all in for maximum fun instead?' So great to hear that Cass is believable and likable. I was trying so hard to make sure she wasn't too cliche. I'm definitely planning on giving you more. Hopefully more fluff but I have the option for some angst ahead... To "CelluloidDreamer": First off, I admire your dedication to come find this after I put the first couple chapters on Tumblr. I was surprised. Kudos to you! We'll see about Cass' feelings for Bucky... To "Kelsoc": Thanks! And I highly recommend The Martian if you don't mind** ** _lots_** **of strong language. To "Fanficqueen306": Thank you so much! To "callieandjack": I agree. On everything. I completely, 100% agree with you. To "Angelbaby1231": Sappy Bucky may not be too canon-compliant, but** ** _I love him too_** **. And you know, after you mentioned all the fics being like a love-triangle between Steve and Bucky and it was nice that mine wasn't, I was like, "I could've done that, but super glad I didn't. Cass wouldn't fall for Steve anyway." He needed to be the constant best friend for this thing to work. Glad it's working out for you!**

 **Thanks, y'all, for reading! Leave a comment if you have one or a question if something wasn't clear (I seem to do that a lot)!**


	10. 10 Enter Winter Soldier

After about an hour of the party, when everyone had finished eating and the plates had been disposed of, I was still sitting next to Bucky on one of the sofas, close enough to be encircled in his halo of warmth. At some point after we'd finished eating he'd put his metal arm around my shoulders casually. Natasha hadn't stopped smirking the entire time, but she'd gone off to talk to Clint about something. Gran was talking to Steve halfway across the room—probably talking about the forties or thirties. She was in her early nineties so she was only about five years younger than Steve and Bucky, so it stood to reason she remembered some of those decades long-past. I'm sure Steve was enjoying it if that was what they were talking about, but they were too far away and talking quietly under the chatter of everyone else and the gentle music playing in the background so I didn't know for sure.

Sometime during the party Tony insisted Bucky dance with me. He apparently was sober enough to remember the time when I danced with him at that other party. So after a good five minutes of everyone cheering for us, chanting our names, Bucky slapped his knees and stood up. "Alright then," he remarked, turning and offering me his hand. "My love?" I sighed heavily and took his hand, letting him haul me to my feet. Steve and Thor moved the heavy glass coffee table out of the way as Natasha and Clint moved a couple sofas to make a bigger space in the middle. I passed my phone to Steve to hold on to so it wouldn't fly out of my pocket and break.

"No lifts. Not in this dress," I hissed.

"Yes ma'am," Bucky replied.

We did a simple dance when Tony cranked the music's volume up. I got spun around a lot and bent backward several times but other than that, Bucky kept my feet mostly on the ground. We ended on a dip so low my hair pooled on the ground I could practically _feel_ the floor about two inches from my head. That elicited cheers and whistles from the others. Also a few camera shutter sounds. Bucky popped me back up to my feet and kissed my forehead while giving me a quick hug.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Tony exclaimed, downing something from a martini glass. We took a bow and sat back down. Steve gave me back my phone.

Gran nudged me with her elbow as I flopped onto the sofa between her and Bucky. "Good job, butterfly! You would have given me and your grampa a run for our money back in the day!" I blushed and chuckled. "You certainly married the right guy for you." Another guilty blush tinted my cheeks. Gran didn't notice.

After another hour of idle socializing during which I generally avoided everyone unless they spoke first, I sensed that most everyone was far past tipsy—except me, Steve, Bucky, Gran, and Natasha. Bucky and Steve couldn't get drunk because of their super-soldier metabolisms, I chose not to drink alcohol, Gramma claimed she was too old for more than maybe one small glass of wine, and Natasha's tolerance was higher than everyone else's (except maybe Tony's) because she was used to strong Russian vodka or something. Even Thor was swaying slightly on his feet—his Asgardian ale or whatever he kept in that vial of his was helping, I'm sure.

"I'll be right back," Bucky murmured to me. "I'm going to go ask Steve something."

I shrugged. "Go ahead," I replied, a little tired.

Bucky stood and sauntered over to his best friend. The two soldiers talked quietly with their heads together while I sat on the sofa on my own, mostly ignoring the looks I could feel the others casting my way every so often.

Suddenly Sam flopped into the empty seat next to me—pretty slammed—and laid his head on my lap. "Hey gorgeous," he greeted, voice slurred and thick with alcohol. "You know, you have beautiful eyes."

 _Lightweight_ , I thought sarcastically.

I pursed my lips and tried to push him off. "Thanks. But please get off."

"Why?" Falcon moaned childishly. "You're nice and soft and warm!"

" _Sam_. You're drunk. Get off," I snapped.

"No," he decided.

"Sam, seriously! Off!" I tried to push him off of me again, but he was too heavy and too strong. He threw his arms around my shoulders and wasn't letting go. "Get! Off!" I ordered, voice rising in pitch since I was stressed. " _Please_!" I had no idea—apart from too much alcohol—what was bringing his bizarre behavior on. We were friends because he had a very amiable personality, but there had never been any interest of any kind between us. Ever. His drunk brain probably just thought it was funny.

A shadow swooped out of nowhere and _wrenched_ Sam off of me, hurling him across the room into the opposite wall.

"Bucky!" I breathed in shock, leaping to my feet.

My pretend husband was standing a few scant inches in front of me, glaring across the room at Sam where he was groaning in pain on the floor. He was seething and his normally bright blue eyes had turned dark and threatening. He was breathing heavily—more from anger than effort—and almost growling. I stared at him, trying to think of something to say. He was fuming and glaring and more furious than I'd ever seen him—which was saying something. My jaw was hanging open and I was completely thunderstruck.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Steve grinning, eyebrows raised, staring at both of us with hearts in his eyes—probably because he " _shipped us so hard!"_ Natasha was smirking again, a knowing glint in her expression that I wanted to wipe off but didn't because I was too scared to leave Bucky where he was in whatever state he was in.

Bucky took a heavy step forward, towards Sam. I grabbed his hand, pulling him back as well as I could, gently.

He whirled, turning his murderous glare to me.

Until he realized it was me, a pleading look on my face.

His hard look softened—angry lines smoothing out.

He licked his lips to moisten them after his heavy breathing dried them out and just _stared_ at me for several moments. Several _tense_ moments in which I couldn't do anything except stare back, my own breathing a bit heavier than I'd prefer in fear and anticipation.

I felt his fingers squeeze around mine—tight enough that he knew I was there but loose enough that he didn't crush my fingers.

He kissed me. Hard. Deep. Desperate.

On the lips.

In front of everybody.

After a moment of a rigid spine and wide eyes, I relaxed so thoroughly against him my knees almost gave way under me. I would have fallen over if his arms hadn't suddenly clutched my shoulders and pressed them towards his powerful chest. My eyes fluttered closed and I released the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

The moment was intense, warm, and completely enveloping. For an intoxicating moment I forgot I was deeply kissing an ex-assassin in front of a room full of other people just as capable of murdering me as he was—and my own grandmother. All I was conscious of was Bucky's mouth on mine and his hair tickling the sides of my face where it had escaped his man-bun. My hands had unconsciously moved from holding onto his up to the middle of his back. I could feel his muscles tense and roll under my fingertips.

Then Clint _loudly_ cleared his throat.

Bucky pulled away first. I opened my eyes after a moment or two of slight shock but his stayed closed, forehead tilting to rest against mine, brows furrowed. We were both breathing heavily.

When his blue eyes finally opened, they did nothing but stare at me, mouth slightly open. Mine was as well—like we both couldn't believe we'd really just done that. I probably looked surprised and he looked confused. _I'm sorry,_ he mouthed to me, closing his eyes. I shook my head as my hands slipped from his back to his waist.

"Don't be," I breathed.

Tony catcall-whistled—he was so far past drunk I was surprised he was still on his feet. Steve had his arms folded, looking extremely smug. I raised one eyebrow at him. All he did was give me three handshapes from the ASL alphabet—which Clint had taught us all _ages_ ago. _OTP_. I narrowed my eyes. Steve shrugged and smirked. "I ship it so hard," he commented. I could barely hear him over the music in the background.

Natasha was sitting near Clint—still relatively sober—and smiling widely.

Gramma was cheering. "How sweet!" she exclaimed. "You two are one of the cutest couples I've ever laid my old eyes on!" I blushed the color of an embarrassed ripe strawberry and kept my face turned away from her. But thank heavens most everyone else was drunk enough that there was a good chance most of them wouldn't even remember this come tomorrow. A great advantage to always being completely stone-cold sober is I was always one of the like three people who remembered everything that happened. Let's just say I had lots of blackmail on Tony and Clint in particular.

Bucky held me close to his back and turned to Sam—who was just barely managing to pick himself off the floor, swaying on his feet. "Don't ever try that with my wife ever again," he snapped viciously.

The Falcon blearily nodded. "Right," he mumbled, voice still slurred.

* * *

 **End Note: I'm just going to leave this here without saying anything.**

 **To "candycrum": Thank you! To "AssembleCHB": Thank you! Glad you liked the chapter and the humor and the characters! I know it would be kind of cool but I don't think I'm gonna do it. I don't know yet though. To "daringwolf2000": Thanks! Glad you're still liking her grandma and Natasha and super excited you got my Sherlock Holmes reference! To "Fanficqueen306": I'm not sure if Steve got it from Nat or Tony or Darcy or Cass herself - but it was definitely one of them. But I know Cass didn't just ask him because he's just the "Hot" friend (as she very well could have asked Steve or Thor but she didn't). They met when Steve introduced them. Everything else I'm trying to write into later chapters. To "Kelsoc": Was last chapter really that angsty? To "RussianAssassin": Yeah I know Seb played Beck and Bucky. I get it. (For the moving train thing, they asked him about that in an interview and Seb as like, "Yeah no they didn't do that because I was Bucky but it was funny." Or something like that.) And, sadly, I'm afraid there is no dodgeball chapter. To "inperfection": Super happy you like Gran! And yes. Bucky in a suit. Have you seen the pictures of Sebastian Stan at the Captain America: The Winter Soldier premiere where he's wearing an all-black suit (shirt, tie, and all)? It is so immensely handsome! To "Whitelion69": Thank you! Great to hear! To "Captain Murica 2002": Thank you so much! I'm happy to hear that you seem to be liking it! To "KiyaNamiel": Don't worry about being too lazy to sign in. I get that. I think Nat is the first mate on USS Casscky (Steve is the captain - obviously). There's no such thing as liking something as innocent as this too much! To "Hannah (Guest)": Thank you! Glad you're enthusiastic! To "callieandjack": You better not be trying to take him from me! You've already got Steve! (And I'm willing to relinquish my hold on some of the others but I'm keeping Bucky.) And** ** _I don't know if Bucky dated her gramma yet or not! I haven't decided!_** **To "Angelbaby1231": Perhaps Bucky does need a push (read: gigantic shove) in the right direction and yes, Natasha is busy working on Cass - LOL.**

 **Welp, thanks everybody for reading! Hope y'all are having as much fun as I am! Questions? Comments? Leave a review if you got something! Love y'all!**


	11. 11 Aftermath

"He's gonna be sore in the morning!" Tony exclaimed, wobbling a bit himself. He slowly walked in a zigzagging line over to us. "I'll tell you what, lovebirds, it's too late to walk home at this time of night. How about you all stay over here till morning?" His hands landed heavily on our shoulders and he looked at us with highly dilated pupils.

"You need to lay off alcohol," I remarked sarcastically. "You're going to embarrass yourself again."

"I don't know what you mean," Tony retorted. I rolled my eyes.

Bucky brusquely removed the billionaire's hand from my shoulder and let it flop, deadweight, to its owner's side. "We don't have any pajamas here or anything," he reminded the drunk genius. Tony blew a raspberry and waved his hand dismissively.

"You're married! It's not like you've never seen each other in your underwear before!"

I blinked. Tony was so drunk he forgot that we weren't actually married. Wow. I thought it was going to be the other way around.

Bucky glanced at me. I shrugged. "I suppose we can stay over for the night," he decided. He brushed Tony's other hand off his own shoulder. "Excuse me." Quickly he slid around the genius over to Steve and Natasha. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I saw the blond soldier nod and stand from where he'd been perched on the edge of a sofa, watching what Bucky did with Sam and ready to intercede had my efforts not been enough to rein in the Winter Soldier. Natasha nodded as well and stood.

Tony stumbled off—supported by slightly tipsy but still relatively coherent Pepper and Rhodey—as Bucky, Natasha, and Steve joined me in the spot I'd been frozen in. "You can borrow some of my pajamas," the Black Widow told me, grinning kindly. I gave her a small smile in return. Before all this stuff happening with Bucky, she and Steve were the two Avengers I'd been closest with. They had adopted me as some sort of little sister or something. "Come on. We'll go find you something to wear."

"Thank you," I whispered as she and I left the party, Steve taking Bucky towards the stairs while we headed for the elevator—presumably to let him borrow some PJs too.

Maria Hill offered to take Gramma Howell to an empty floor for the night. After my present company and the soldiers, she was the least drunk.

"No problem, Cass. You know that." We got to her floor after a moment of elevator music. "Now. Let's see what's clean that'll fit you, shall we?" I was only a few inches shorter than her but she was skinnier than I was. She rifled through her walk-in closet for a few minutes. "Try this on," she ordered. I changed quickly in the bathroom.

"I don't think this is quite… me. Don't you just have a stolen T-shirt of Clint's or Steve's and some sweats?" I inquired, stepping out in the very _flattering_ crimson satin nightgown that had an almost completely bare back. My friend's green eyes swept me up and down.

"What, can a woman not dress well for her husband?" she joked.

"I think you've been hanging out with my so-called husband a little too much," I remarked. "He said almost the exact same thing about himself when I asked why he looked kinda dressy."

"Maybe it's a Russian assassin thing," Natasha teased.

"Maybe. But you know we're not—" I dropped my voice to a hiss. " _—actually married!_ "

"Perhaps not, Cass. But I ship it. And if he's not _already_ in love with you, he will be."

"Natasha—"

"Don't argue. Stop resisting the idea that _somebody_ could _possibly_ be interested in you!"

"I resist the idea because I'm _boring_. I'm a glorified _secretary_ to a group of _superheroes_ and I have _never_ had anything interesting happen to me—nor do I _want_ something interesting to happen to me! Why would someone be interested in me?! Why would the _Winter Soldier_ be interested in me?"

Natasha raised one red eyebrow. "I don't know. Maybe because you're pretty and smart and you actually have a sense of humor? Maybe because your eyes sparkle when you talk about something you're passionate about? Maybe because you're _likeable?_ " she retorted. "Whatever. You're wearing that. Because if I have anything to say about this, by the end of this month, Bucky is going to be so hopelessly in love with you he'll be devastated that it's over."

I threw up my hands in frustration. "Fine. And then never again."

"Glad I could convince you. Give your husband my best."

I hissed at her, wadded up my party clothes under my arm, and took the elevator to the floor that had served as my apartment when I'd just started as the assistant before I'd found my own place.

Bucky wasn't there. For several moments I wondered why. Then I remembered we hadn't agreed on a meeting place. Thinking for several moments, trying to figure where he was, I realized that he might have gone to _his_ old floor. Another quick elevator trip and I found him. His back was to me as I stepped out of the box. He was in a pair of over-sized basketball shorts and completely shirtless—which still made me blush out of embarrassment but I was slowly getting used to. I will admit I was admiring his physique. He had a good body. There were scars on his back I had never really noticed before.

When he caught sight of me he smirked. "Natasha has interesting taste in nightclothes," he remarked. I raised my eyebrows in agreement and pulled an irked face. "You know, doll, in this building we could sleep separately and your gramma would never know."

"Unless she comes to wake us up in the morning," I countered flatly.

Bucky scrunched his eyebrows. "Good point," he relented. "Though I can't say I'm disappointed to have my Dream Catcher with me."

I rolled my eyes. "Right," I muttered.

"Sleep well, beautiful. I'll see you when I wake up." He got in one side of the bed and I climbed into the other. As I snuggled into the covers, I thought back on the party and what happened with Sam. I liked the guy—he was smart and had a great sense of humor—but I decided I didn't like him when he'd had a little too much to drink. It almost scared me.

For the first time in the last couple days, I rolled over onto my side so I was facing Bucky. We didn't seem to mind waking up close, but going to sleep was different.

I was shocked to see him already facing me.

"You alright, sweetheart?" he asked, resting his hand gently on the side of my face, rubbing my cheekbone with his thumb.

"Just a little shaken over what happened with Sam," I replied.

Bucky stiffened. "Did I scare you?"

I cleared my throat. "Sam scared me more than you did," I admitted. "But I was a bit frightened."

"I'm sorry," Bucky murmured, looking ashamed.

"Don't be. I'm grateful you got him off."

And I did something I wasn't sure I should do or not—I scooted closer to him and rested my head under his chin. His arm draped over me protectively and I put one of mine over him. "You're shaking," he commented quietly.

"Yeah," I muttered.

He held me closer. "Don't be scared. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you," he promised.

I nuzzled my head into his chest, trying to get my shaking under control, and let out a small whimper before, exhausted, I fell asleep. For the first time since this crazy arrangement started, I realized that I trusted him wholeheartedly. His arms had become safe to me—a place where no one could hurt me.

* * *

 **End Note: (I don't own Marvel. I guess I need to put that disclaimer somewhere.) So, last chapter I was going for some sort of angst/romance tease with what happened with Sam, and** ** _everybody thought it was funny_** **! For once with this story, I wasn't going for funny! (*pats my own back* Good job, Cass. Good job.) Anyhow... I've been trying to write two chapters for every one chapter I've been posting to keep well ahead until I finish but it's not been easy. Side note: I'm think I'm going to go back and maybe remove review responses of old chapters because they're like 400 words each and probably throwing off the word count and LYING to people about how long this story is. I decided that I'm only going to respond to Guest reviews on this page and just frickin PM you guys your reviews because these End Notes are WAY too long. So you guys probably all got a PM from me with the subject line "Review Response (DTaSP)".**

 **To "the avengette (Guest)": Marvel has ruined my taste in men too. Oops! But always do a happy dance! They're good for improving moods! And comment on whatever you like! I love hearing about everything!** **To "Defenestration (Guest)": I know exactly what that means! I have told my friends many times when they annoy me that I will defenestrate them. And I write how I talk. "Casual" might be an understatement. And if I've said it once, I'll say it again: _I don't see why Steve is portrayed in fics as being a technophobe!_ I think that after he got the hang of technology, he totally embraced it. HE IS A HIGHLY INTELLIGENT HUMAN BEING! And don't stress yourself out of writing. Be casual! Write what you wanna read. Write how you talk! (If you're into that sort of thing. I don't know your writing style.)**

 **Thank you so much for reading! Leave a comment or question if you got one! (If not, but you still wanna say something, feel free!)**


	12. 12 Breakfast in Bed

"I thought I'd bring you two some breakfast!" Gramma Howell announced loudly as the door opened. I jumped awake—still in Bucky's arms. "But I can come back later if I'm interrupting." She was holding a tray.

I sat up, extricating myself from Bucky's grip as best I could, trying to untwist the nightgown that had somehow managed to get hopelessly wound around me. "No, you're not interrupting anything. Except my sleep," I replied. "And I can miss out on some of that." Gran set the tray on my knees as Bucky blearily blinked his bright blue eyes open, licking his lips—a gesture I found increasingly attractive. _Snap out of it, Cass!_ I thought sharply as he smiled at my grandmother, sat up, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me right behind my ear—making me shudder because it tickled.

He played his part a little too well. "Good morning, my love," he greeted tiredly, nuzzling his face into the back of my neck, burying his head in my messy hair. I blushed as Gramma raised her eyebrows teasingly. His bare chest was warm against my shoulder but his metal arm was cool against my partially-bare chest.

"Morning Bucky," I replied with a grin.

He kissed the back of my neck—again making me shudder because it tickled—and moved so his chin was resting on my shoulder so he could see me. "You're so beautiful in the morning," he remarked.

"I'm clearly interrupting. I'll see you two kiddies later," Gramma Howell commented, retreating towards the door.

Bucky straightened up. "No, Ms. Howell, it's alright. Please, join us."

"No, no. I think I'll leave the couple to each other for the morning. You'll be spending enough time with me as it is—might as well let you be alone while you still can!" She gave me a cheeky wink and slipped into the elevator—which was being held open by a certain captain leaning against the door giving us a double thumbs-up and his own cheeky grin. We didn't risk glaring at him because Gran was still looking at us as he got in the box too. The doors closed and left us alone.

I got four texts from Steve in quick succession.

 _I saw the whole thing. So cute. I ship it._

 _O_

 _T_

 _P!_

I narrowed my eyes at my phone and turned the screen off, deciding replying was too much effort.

Bucky picked a piece of buttered toast up off the well-stocked plate and took a bite. "Your grandma is very thoughtful," he remarked after he swallowed. I gave a gesture of agreement with my eyebrows and laid back on the pillows.

For the first time I got a _really good_ look at Bucky's back.

It had a fair share of scars. Some were surgically-precise. Others were jagged and rough.

I stared for several moments before tearing my eyes away to look at his eyes—which were watching me. "So what are we doing today?" I asked, sitting up again.

"Maybe we could take your grandma to Coney Island. It's been over seventy years since I went. I'm curious to see if the Cyclone is still there," he suggested. I raised my eyebrows, pursed my lips, and nodded. That didn't sound half-bad.

"Why the Cyclone?"

"I made Steve ride it long before the serum. He threw up."

"Maybe we should drag him with us. He could be Gran's date. Be good for him to go on a date with a woman his own age."

That really struck a chord in Bucky's sense of humor. I'd _never_ seen him laugh so hard. He threw back his head and squeezed his eyes shut. I put my tongue against the back of my front teeth and grinned.

 _Geez, what's so funny? I can hear Bucky laughing from up here!_ Steve's text popped up on my screen. I placed my forehead in my hand. I'd forgotten Steve's floor—that he inhabited regularly—was directly above Bucky's.

 _Nothing. Apparently I have a better sense of humor than I thought,_ I replied.

 _… Okay…_

I rolled my eyes and turned the screen off again.

"What was that?" Bucky asked when he regained control of his laughter.

"Steve wanted to know what was so funny. He could hear you from upstairs."

"Did you tell him?"

"Not really." I threw the covers off my knees after setting the tray on Bucky's lap and slid off the bed.

"Hold still," Bucky ordered. I froze. I heard movement behind me but couldn't see what he was doing. After a moment I felt him brush my hair off my back and onto one shoulder. "Where did you get the scars?"

I scratched the back of my head. "Three of them were from getting moles removed. They could have turned into cancer. The others are just accidents from being a kid who grew up in a big backyard with rocks to climb," I answered. All true. I wasn't going to lie to him. I wondered for a moment why he was asking—until I realized that this stupid red nightgown had a lower back than all of my clothing and this was probably the first time Bucky had seen my back so exposed.

He touched them gently with his normal hand.

"I'm sorry. I'll let you do whatever you need to get ready for today. I just wondered."

"Don't worry. I understand." I grabbed my clothes from the day before and slid into his bathroom. I changed from the crimson satin nightgown back into my black dress from the party before since I didn't have anything else to wear. When I left his bathroom, he was back in his casual blue suit, just minus the jacket, tie, and top button.

"Zip?" I asked, giving him my back. I felt his hand rest on my shoulder as his other one tugged my zipper up. "Thanks!" With some pep in my step I hopped over to the elevator with the nightgown draped over my arm. "See you in a minute, _honey_!" I said sarcastically. Bucky smirked as the doors closed in front of me. I rode to Natasha's floor. When the doors opened, I saw her pulling on her socks. "Hey Nat. Just thought I'd bring this stupid nightdress back and ask if I can borrow your hairbrush for like two minutes."

"Go ahead." Natasha threw the hairbrush at me while I tossed the nightgown at her. As I pulled the brush through my hair, Natasha leaned against the doorframe to her bedroom and watched me with arms folded and a smirk on her face.

"Okay. What's that look for?" I asked after several moments of silence.

"The second your gramma leaves the team is going to be teasing you both about this month relentlessly. I'm just figuring out the best way to do it now."

I rolled my eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm choosing which words will bring about maximum embarrassment that you won't be able to do anything about."

I sighed exasperatedly. "Nat—"

"And it's not going to stop. Especially from Tony and Steve, until you two actually get married."

"I don't think Bucky's _that_ interested in me."

"We'll see. You're impossible, Cass _Barnes_."

* * *

 **End Note: I actually did have to have three moles removed on my back because they could have turned into cancer. Though I have never had breakfast in bed...**

 **To "Guest": Thank you so much! Reviews like that make _my_ day! To "the avengette (Guest)": Feel free to comment whenever you like! I'm glad you like it! Happy dance all you want! (And thanks for the virtual pancakes!) To "Guest": Yeah, I have friends who tease and "ship" me with people too. The downsides of having super nerdy friends. But I love them. Super happy you're enjoying it! Makes me feel like I'm doing something right!**

 **Thanks for reading! Leave a comment or question if you've got one! XD**


	13. 13 Coney Island

"Oh, butterfly, you two come up with some good ideas," Gran teased sarcastically, eyeing Steve as he and Bucky stood in line for us at the Cyclone while we caught up. The three of us had gone back to my apartment, got showered and changed, and then picked up the good captain from the Tower before heading to Coney Island. When we reached the super soldiers, Steve offered Gran his arm and Bucky wrapped his normal arm around my waist protectively. Both super soldiers were wearing baseball caps and sunglasses and Bucky had a glove over his metal hand. "It's been _decades_ since I came here!" We waited in the line for a while before we got on the ride. As I climbed into the car next to Bucky with Gran and Steve in front of us, I prayed that Gran would be okay. She was old and the ride was made of wood. It was going to be _far_ from a smooth ride.

Steve and Bucky both grinned. "Us too, Ms. Howell. Us too," Steve commented. And off the ride went. I cheered with excitement and saw Steve go rigid. Bucky rested his hand on Captain America's shoulder. For a moment I smirked as the ride climbed the first hill. The last time Steve went on this was probably the time when he was frail and sickly and threw up. He relaxed a bit under Bucky's comforting hand but his knuckles were white on the handles as the cars crested the top. If he wasn't careful his strength would dent those handles.

I squealed as we went over and plummeted. I watched Gran carefully, making sure she could handle the rattling of the wooden roller coaster. For being so insanely old and brittle, she was remarkably resilient—a trait I hoped to inherit. My _mom_ didn't even go on roller coasters anymore because they jostled her too much.

I whooped and hollered the whole ride while Bucky laughed next to me. I could sense his eyes on me on the turns.

When the cars jolted to a stop, I climbed out quickly. Bucky followed and held his hand out for Gramma Howell. She wobbled a bit getting out. Both super soldiers steadied her. Steve got out after her and we strode toward the exit. I was smiling and practically bouncing. "That was great!" I exclaimed.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon going on the rides and exploring Coney Island, taking lots of pictures. I'd lived in New York for _years_ and had never made it to the park. As we walked, Bucky would hold my hand and swing it back and forth. He fiddled with my ring every so often before swinging my hand high enough to give my knuckles a kiss. I would blush but say nothing as Gramma and Steve both gave us that look where I could practically see the heart-eyes.

When the sun started going down, we got dinner and wandered the streets back towards my building. Bucky and I had our arms around each other. His around my shoulders and mine around his waist. My head was leaned against his side and we had content grins on our faces. Steve was still escorting Gran—which was the kindest thing he could have ever done for me—when we got back to my building. In the elevator up to my floor, I dug my keys out of my pocket and passed them to Bucky. He kissed the top of my head—making Steve give us a look—and jogged ahead to open the door.

The four of us ended the day by watching a movie with popcorn. It was _Frozen_ —a particular favorite of both super soldiers'. I knew all the words to all the songs and hummed along, tempted more than once during _Let It Go_ to burst out into my fake opera voice. Then I remembered I had neighbors and resisted.

When the movie was over and Steve left, I showered and got in my pajamas and went to bed. Bucky joined a few minutes after. At first my back was to him but he put his normal hand on my shoulder and tugged until I turned around. He took my right hand in his in the grip like we were going to arm-wrestle, smiled—closed-lipped and crinkle-eyed—and went to sleep. I smiled at his peaceful face for a moment before I closed my eyes and relaxed.

It took me a while to go to sleep, but eventually I did.

I don't remember if I dreamt, but at about two-thirty in the morning I woke up to hear Bucky murmuring something in the living room. I tiredly slid out of bed and peeked through the ajar door to see him shirtless, with his bedhead in flannel pajama pants, on the phone. "—didn't wanna wake Cass."

I raised one eyebrow as I watched him pace back forth between the sofa and coffee table as incoherent noises came from the other end of the call.

"Yeah. Just another bad dream and I woke her up when I had one the other night. Thought I'd spare her this time. Of course, the other night I thrashed while she was lying on my arm and I threw her onto me but… you know…" He trailed off. "Yeah. You're right. Thanks Steve." There was another pause. "You know I care about her, punk! You're the one who brought it up in the first place!"

I figured maybe it was time to make my entrance. I yawned widely and opened the door wider, rubbing the back of my head with one hand and my eye with the other. "'S goin' on?" I slurred tiredly, blinking at the light of the lamp on its dimmest setting.

"I gotta go," Bucky said into his phone. He hung it up and wrapped his arms around me, cradling my head against his warm chest. "I couldn't sleep, sweetie. That's all."

I yawned again. "Nightmare?"

He hesitated. "Yeah."

"Come back to bed. I'll keep the nightmares away," I muttered. In the moment, it didn't matter that we weren't actually married. It didn't matter than I probably knew Tony better than I knew Bucky—in my defense I'd known Tony longer. It didn't matter that there was no one around to pretend for—Gran was more than likely fast asleep in the other room. In the moment, it was just Bucky being scared by his subconscious (though I'm sure he wouldn't use the term _scared_ if I asked) and me wanting to help him get some good sleep. Because at the very least we were friends. And friends helped each other with nightmares. Right? Not to mention the fact that we were both unintentionally method actors who had to apparently fully inhabit our roles.

I felt him sigh, his warm breath fluttering the hairs on the top of my head. "Okay," he whispered.

I took his hand and wrist and tugged him back into the bedroom. We climbed back into the bed and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly until he went back to sleep. Then I went back into sleep myself.

* * *

 **End Note: I'm gonna try to reply to your reviews, I promise! I got several of people begging me not to give up on this story. I promise all of you that I did not give up! I just had to have an unplanned hiatus! I love you guys! If I don't get around to replying to your reviews I swear it's not because I didn't want to! I'm just really bad at time management!**

 **To "Avengette (Guest)": I'm glad you like my attempts at making sure Steve isn't out-of-touch. Because I don't think he is actually as out-of-touch as everyone else's fanfictions seem to suggest. I mean, sure it makes for humor, but I don't think it's accurate. Steve's a smart guy!**

 **I love you all! Thank you _so much_ for sticking with me through this weird, unexpected break that none of us wanted! Leave a comment or question if you have one! (If not, that's fine!)**


	14. 14 PR Director

"Bucky?" I called as I rushed out of the bedroom, slinging my purse strap over my shoulder.

Gramma Howell and Bucky were sitting at the table, doing a puzzle. "Hey honey. Wassup?"

"Tony called. He needs a hand launching a new pro-vaccination campaign and wants a PR director," I told him. "I'll be back later. Not sure when. I love you." I gave him a kiss on the cheek, not even thinking about what I was saying.

He grabbed my face and gave me a proper kiss on the lips. "I love you too," he replied, sounding so insanely genuine I almost believed he meant it. "Want me to walk you to the Tower?"

"No I'm good. I'll call later if I'm gonna have to walk home in the dark. I don't know how long this'll take." I ruffled his messy hair and trotted out the door.

I could regale you with tales of how interesting it is to work as an assistant to a team of superheroes on a day-to-day basis, but I won't. Steve wasn't even at the Tower. Natasha and Clint were out on an assignment. Who knew where Bruce was? And Thor, after the party, had gone back to Asgard to deal with something or other I hadn't been informed about. So for once, there were no really interesting stories to tell. I basically sat behind Tony and helped him design posters and stickers and whatever else he thought was a good idea for something like twelve hours. We had lunch and dinner delivered and then I was on my way home. It was almost dark so I called Bucky and told him to meet me halfway.

In fact, we actually met at almost the exact halfway point between my building and the Tower.

"Hello," he greeted.

"Hiya! How's Gran? Where is she?"

"She's back at the apartment. Still working on that puzzle. Today was nice and relaxing. But she was a little sore after Coney Island."

"I'm sorry I couldn't have been there. I know she's not your responsibility. Tony was upset that he had to call me into work when he'd given me the month off to have fun with my grandma but he came up with a 'great new idea' and you know how he is with those and—"

"Cass. I get it. And don't worry. Today was great. I really got to know your grandmother. It was fun. She still has no clue." He took my hand—my left one—and we started walking back to my apartment. I stared at where our hands were intertwined.

"What are you doing?" I asked curiously. "I mean, there's no one here to pretend for."

"Sweetheart, there are so many people on this road that if you don't hold my hand I am going to lose you in this crowd. You. Are. _Tiny_ ," he answered.

I pursed my lips for a moment. "Fine," I relented. He had a point. He smirked.

We walked back to the building at a leisurely pace. I'd almost rather use the term _strolled_ rather than _walked_ because Bucky didn't seem to be in any big rush. He had a pleasant look on his face—which made _me_ smile because before this whole crazy arrangement, smiles on the Winter Soldier weren't exactly _rare_ but they weren't exactly _common_ either.

He had a slight swagger to his walk that I'd never noticed before. A few moments after, I realized it was because his left side was heavier than his right because of his arm.

When we got back—thankfully avoiding any catcallers because after what happened with Sam I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what Bucky would do to them—Gran was looking at the pictures on top of the TV cabinet. "You two are just the best couple I've seen in all my years," she commented, not even turning around to see us. I glanced up at Bucky. He was grinning, looking down at me with a mischievous glint in his bright, icy blue eyes. "Besides me and your grampa, of course," she added after a moment. Bucky chuckled and gave me a kiss on the temple while I laughed.

"Of course," I agreed. "But I'd also have to challenge you on that."

"Right," Gran remarked with a grin.

There were a few moments of silence before I went off to the bedroom and took a shower. I could hear noises in the rest of the apartment and just figured Bucky and Gran were busying themselves waiting for me. When I got out we'd probably discuss tomorrow's activities.

When I was done in the shower I got into my pajamas and brushed my teeth. Bucky wasn't in the bedroom. Curious, I left to look into the main room. I smirked when I saw.

Bucky had lit two tall candles in holders on the coffee table—the ones I saved in a cupboard for absolutely no reason but I'm pretty sure they were a gift from someone—next to two steaming mugs of what I assumed was hot chocolate since I didn't keep any coffee in. There was no other light in the room. Gran was absent, and the door to the spare room was closed. Already in his pajamas, he stood in the center of the room. Gentle music was drifting from the stereo I had under the TV. The song was _A Thousand Years—_ the version by John Barrowman that I had a CD of—and it was just starting.

"Care to join me?" he asked. I went and stood next to him in front of the sofa. He sat down and tugged me to sit beside him. He picked up both mugs and passed one to me.

"What's this about?"

"I need to… tell you something."

I raised my eyebrows. "Okay." For a crazy moment I wondered what was on his mind. The sarcastic part of my brain was hoping that it wasn't what I thought it was—some super-cheesy confession of his deep, unrequited feelings for me. The sappy part of my brain was hoping that it _was_. The logical part of my brain reminded me that it probably wouldn't be that because why would the Winter Soldier be interested in a glorified secretary? The second was favored for the moment though as he scooted closer to me and took a sip of his hot chocolate. He licked his lips and stared at me for several long moments.

* * *

 **End Note: I admit the cut off was a little bit ill-timed but I didn't know where else to finish it.**

 **To "FanFictionFranny (Guest)": Thank you so much! I never expected to write anyone's favorite anything! Ah! XD To "Guest": Cap indeed is not the only one shipping them! :-D To "Defenestration": I'M BACK I KNOW! I NEVER WANTED TO LEAVE! AH! You rock too, my friend! You rock too!**

 **Thank you for reading! Leave a comment or question if you have one!**


	15. 15 Hot Chocolate

"Cass… two nights ago, at the party, when I hurled Sam into the opposite wall… I… I slipped," Bucky admitted.

"What do you mean?" I inquired.

He hesitated for a moment. "I lost my grip on my mind. For a moment I was pure Winter Soldier. Pure HYDRA."

I cleared my throat. "I know," I admitted. "I saw."

"I know you saw. And I'm sorry. I never wanted you to see me like that."

"It's okay, Bucky. Really. You've already apologized. It's been forgiven."

"No, doll, it's not okay. Because I frightened you."

"Not really. Like I said before, Sam scared me more than you did. I don't know how… but… I knew that even as the Winter Soldier you wouldn't hurt me. You could have torn that whole room apart and left me completely unscathed. I don't know why I knew that, but I could feel it."

Bucky hung his head. "I'm a monster. You should have asked Steve instead of me. At least then the only thing that would wake you up in the night would be him muttering the Pledge of Allegiance."

I smirked—but it was a sad gesture. "No he has nightmares too. He just doesn't talk about them. If he wakes up in the middle of the night from a bad dream, he fights down his screams and goes rigid—like he's paralyzed."

"How do you know that?"

"Tony ran a study on the Avengers way back before I met you," I started. "He put cameras on them while they slept and analyzed their patterns. It lasted for about a month. He did it to program FRIDAY with everyone's sleep schedules so she would wake them up at the optimum time. I was in charge of watching all the recordings to see when they woke up, how long they stayed awake, and what they did once they woke up. Long story short I learned a lot about everyone's nightmares." I took a sip of my hot chocolate and rested my head on his shoulder. His arm almost instinctually rested around me. "You're not a monster, Bucky. I wouldn't want to spend this month with anyone except you." I smiled up at him. "I couldn't imagine doing this without you—or with anyone else." I took a sip of my hot chocolate to punctuate my point. "Who else makes hot chocolate this good? What did you put in it?"

Bucky smirked a bit. "Whipped cream and a couple marshmallows."

I'd completely forgotten I even _had_ marshmallows in one of my cupboards. I chuckled. "Well, Mr. Barnes, you make very good hot chocolate," I complimented. He smiled and kissed my temple. I thought about opening my mouth to protest, but I shrugged it off. Might as well just be close to him whenever I could, so it wasn't so awkward when we were around people—or Gran.

"Thanks, Cass," he replied jovially.

We didn't talk at all as we finished off our mugs and put them in the dishwasher. I had to brush my teeth again but that was okay. When I left the bathroom, Bucky solidly planted me on the sofa and told me to stay there while he got ready for bed. I raised my eyebrows curiously but complied, curious to see what he was up to.

A few minutes after he disappeared into the master bedroom he reemerged, shirtless in his flannel pajamas. Without a word he picked me up, took me into the bedroom, and tucked me in while I was smiling like an idiot. "You're too good to me," I commented. Bucky smirked, shrugged, and got into his side. He turned so he was facing me.

"What, can a man not be nice to his wife every once in a while?" he teased with a wink. I chuckled quietly and rested my head against his chest.

"I suppose," I agreed.

I felt his nose nestle in my hair. "Good night, Cass. I'll see you in the morning."

I took his left hand in mine. "See you in the morning, Bucky."

Unlike usual, I didn't drop right off. I was awake for a while. Maybe it was the hot chocolate. I'd probably have really bizarre dreams because of it—because I always did if I had hot chocolate right before bed—but I wasn't asleep just yet.

And I sensed Bucky wasn't either. His breathing had dramatically slowed, but his eyes weren't moving at all under his closed lids when I peeked mine open.

For several moments I just stared at the lines of his body. Most of his trunk was under the covers but I could see his arms, neck, and face. He was cut—chiseled—"sculpted by the gods" as my best friend from back home would have said. But under the muscle of the former-assassin was the broken twenty-something young man who'd had his life stolen from him for something like seventy years. I'd never given much thought to the tragedy of his story in the several years I'd known him because he was just another Avenger with some sad, heartbreaking backstory just like all the others.

He wasn't just that anymore. The others were my friends, sure, but he was almost more.

I mean, I knew I didn't like him like _that_. I _was not_ in love with Bucky Barnes.

But I knew that after this whole arrangement was over, there would always be a sense of trust and closeness that I'd have with him and not with anyone else on the team.

I heaved a cleansing breath and tried to get to sleep. I was tired and it had been quite the day. Tomorrow would just be another one. I just had to take it a day at a time. I ran my opposite fingers over the wedding ring on my hand, licked my dry lips, and relaxed heavily against the pillow my head was on. I concentrated on my breathing for several long minutes, relaxing each limb in turn the way I did whenever I couldn't get to sleep.

And then, finally, I dropped into sleep.

* * *

 **End Note: Yes, I realized I literally just crushed all of your hopes. You have _no idea_ how many reviews I got pleading for his confession! I almost changed it so that it would satisfy all of you. But alas, I enjoy your suffering more, apparently. *shrugs***

 **To "Defenestration (Guest)": If this story gets long enough I might reach 500 reviews. The fact that I'm close to 200 is AMAZING! I never expected to get here. I guess we're all just suckers for fake-married stories with unrequited feelings thus making our own feelings rip themselves apart. Reading stories like this truly is torture. And trust me, I'm glad to be back in the swing of things too! I've been on a spree with this story and wrote so much I can probably put up another couple chapters without feeling guilty about not being ahead enough (it's a personal thing that I do). And you're right about Pietro, don't worry. I know there was a reason for killing him off, I just think it was a stupid reason. ("I recognize that the counsel has made a decision; but given that it's a stupid-*** decision I've elected to ignore it.")**

 **Thanks for reading! Hope you're still enjoying!**


	16. 16 Unexpected Awakening

When I woke up, the first thing I was conscious of was I wasn't in Bucky's arms. I could tell because nothing was touching me except the covers. It felt like the mornings before all this started. There was something heavy pressing the blankets in front of me down into the mattress but since I hadn't opened my eyes yet I assumed it was Bucky's arm or something.

I peeled my eyelids apart. Blearily I saw an expanse of purple—that my mind processed as weird because the bedspread was _blue_ —and Bucky's bare back. He was on his right side so I could see his powerful muscles and the gleaming metal of his prosthetic.

Focusing my eyes on the expanse of purple between me and my pretend husband's back, I saw that it was—

"Clint!" I shrieked, leaping backwards as best I could while stuck in the covers.

The archer cackled, hands resting behind his head casually, as Bucky woke with a jolt. The dark-haired assassin threw an instinctive punch at the fair-haired one—who was obviously expecting it and blocked it easily. "Whoa there, old-timer!" Hawkeye remarked, amused and sarcastic, even though biologically he was probably fifteen years older than Bucky. "You'd hate to put me in the hospital wouldn't you?" Both Bucky and I glared at him. "I gotta admit you two are _adorable_ when you're sleeping, did you know that? I have never seen your faces so peaceful. I almost didn't want to wake you two up by lying between you two but then the temptation to scare the crap out of both of you was too much."

"How did you get in here?" I demanded even though I probably knew the answer.

Clint winked cheekily. "It's called 'former-assassin-spy' sweetie. I was trained to get into places that shouldn't be gotten into. Besides that, your lock was pathetically easy to pick," he retorted. I gaped at him like a fish for several moments while he chuckled at our faces.

"Why are you here?" I asked, getting my shock, confusion, and frustration under control.

The archer shrugged. "I was bored at the Tower. And I haven't heard anything from either of you since the party so naturally I assumed nothing had happened and figured it was time to throw a wrench in the nothingness."

"I thought you were out on assignment with Natasha," I commented.

"Nah. I told Tony and Steve-o I was going with her and then just hid in the air ducts all day—except when I went out for pizza."

I placed my face in my palm as Bucky flopped back against the bed. "Go away, Barton," he muttered.

"Aw! Am I interrupting Mr. Perfect's beauty sleep?" Hawkeye teased.

"No. You're just really annoying," Bucky mumbled into the pillow.

"Awwww! I'm sorry!" Clint sassed. I slapped him upside the head.

"If you don't get outta here soon you'll have a very irritable Winter Soldier chucking you out," I remarked, finally managing to get out of the covers to get my bathrobe on over my pajamas. Clint blew a raspberry past his lips and agilely hopped off the end of the bed.

"Nah! I brought breakfast!"

I glanced up at the ceiling. "Why do people keep bringing breakfast?"

"Because you two are adorable and we want to be part of your lives!" Clint replied jovially.

"Why are you so chipper this early in the morning?" Bucky grumbled. I circled the bed and perched next to him, ruffling his bedhead.

"Someone got a bad sleep," Clint remarked sarcastically.

I gave him a look that clearly said, _Shut up,_ and for once he complied, slipping out of the room.

"You okay, Buck? Sleep alright?" I asked gently, going from messing with his hair to softly stroking and playing with it to ease him into a better mood than the one Clint had woken him into. The tension in his forehead and between his eyebrows smoothed out as I twisted the lock of hair that always fell into his eyes between my fingers. He gave me a closed-lipped grin and then licked his lips.

"I'm better now that Clint's gone and it's just you," he answered.

The door was open to the rest of the apartment and my grandma was sitting with Clint at the kitchen table. That certainly explained Bucky's ultra-lovey comment. I smirked and twisted his hair around my fingers.

"Heard that!" Clint called from the next room over.

Bucky groaned into his pillow.

"You know, I always saw you as a 'morning person' type," I remarked to him. He looked up at me with sarcastic raised eyebrows.

"I didn't even want to know that this time of the morning even _exists_ anymore," he muttered.

I smiled, leaned down, and gave him a kiss on the temple. "You're so cute," I commented. I pushed myself up—not much of a morning person myself but totally awake after Clint scared me to death—and left the bedroom, snagging Bucky's shirt as I went and taking it with me. I sat at the kitchen table with Gran and Hawkeye—who passed me a Starbucks cup. I raised an eyebrow. He knew I didn't drink coffee. Everyone did.

"It's hot chocolate, kid," he sassed. "I know how opposed you are to coffee. How your husband has survived so long without it is beyond me. So I brought him some."

At that moment, Bucky staggered, shirtless, out of the bedroom. "Why didn't you just say so?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and combing his tangled hair out of his face. Clint passed him another cup with a lid and a fiber sleeve around its middle. Bucky probably downed half of it in one swallow as Clint offered the other two cups he brought to Gran, explaining that one was coffee and one was hot chocolate and he's take whichever one she didn't want. As she accepted the hot chocolate, Bucky sighed contentedly and shook his head as if he'd just gotten out of a pool. "I feel better now," he decided. I snorted and took a sip of my drink. "So what are we doing today?" He flopped into the seat next to me and took his shirt from where I'd set it on my lap.

"Well, I don't know about you three, but today's supposed to be really warm so the team wants to head to the beach—hence why I'm here so early," Clint remarked nonchalantly.

Gran looked over at us. "I wouldn't mind a bit of sun if you two kiddies wouldn't," she commented. I shrugged and looked at Bucky.

"I don't mind," I put in.

"Then I _definitely_ don't mind," he agreed.

"Yeah, why wouldn't he want to see his wife in a bikini?" Clint added sarcastically.

I opened my mouth to snap at him but Bucky beat me to it. "She doesn't _wear_ bikinis you unobservant idiot!" he snapped. My eyes instinctively widened in shock—I wasn't used to someone else defending me from the sardonic comments of the team. Usually I did it all myself. Gran was looking at us with hearts in her eyes—almost the exact same way Steve looked at us.

The archer put his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Didn't mean to be rude."

We ate and finished our breakfast and then Clint took off to go get ready for the beach. Bucky and I went into the master bedroom and I changed in the bathroom with the door closed while Bucky changed in just the bedroom.

When I emerged in a tankini covered in shorts and a loose T-shirt, Bucky was in trunks and a dark blue T-shirt. He threw my goggles at me. "Found these under the bed along with this _Captain America_ doll, Cass," he commented. "Wanna explain to me why you have a twelve-inch doll under your bed of my best friend?"

I shrugged. "My best friend gave me that when I moved here and she heard what I was doing as a profession. She joked that it would keep me safe," I replied.

He snorted. "Okay then. One day I want to meet her."

"One day you probably will," I muttered under my breath as I slung my goggles around my neck and put some beach towels in a beach bag.

A vibration buzzed on my bedside table. _Tony's car is outside your building to pick you up whenever you're ready,_ my phone read. It was from Steve.

 _Thanks. We'll be right out._

* * *

 **End Note: You may (or may not) have noticed that I finally put up a cover image for this story. If you didn't notice that's fine, I was just sick of not having one.**

 **Anyway, I actually have a Captain America doll just like that. It was gift.**

 **To "Guest": Glad you're loving it! Hope it's still living up to expectations! To "FanFictionFranny (Guest)": It is pretty good hero stuff isn't it? XD You're definitely not alone in needing the fluff. To "Guest": Thank you so much! Keep on smiling!**

 **Leave a comment or a question if you've got one or something wasn't clear!**


	17. 17 Beach Day

I didn't mind the beach, but there was no way I was going in the ocean on my own. I'd been in the ocean several times and I knew it'd be kind of cold. That wasn't the problem. The problem was _no one_ should be in the ocean alone because of the _stupid riptides._ They could drag even the strongest swimmer out mercilessly. Swimming in the ocean—even in the five-feet-deep areas—was freaking dangerous. No thanks. I wasn't about to do that alone.

Natasha was in a bikini darker red than her hair with a thin ribbon sash wrapped around her hip to hide the scar where she'd been shot by the Winter Soldier back in 2009. I noticed a lot of the civilian men on the beach checking her out. She was obviously savoring it or not caring because she struck up a very "sexy" position on her beach towel.

But if Natasha looked good to the normal people, Steve was going to cause a minor national scandal if he took his shirt off. The lifeguards on the beach were mostly female. If they looked away I had a feeling three people would nearly drown and everyone would stare. It had happened before about a year ago. So this time Steve left his rash-guard or T-shirt or whatever top he was wearing _on_ as he spread out his towel.

Bucky and I had left our wedding rings in the car so they wouldn't get lost in the ocean or get ruined by sand.

Gramma Howell hadn't brought a bathing suit so she was wearing some lighter clothing—a thin, short-sleeve cotton shirt, some khaki capris, and brown leather sandals. She sat on a folding chair under the _massive_ umbrella Tony brought.

Said billionaire was already out in the waves with Clint and Rhodey having a water fight and trying to get Pepper and Thor's attention with the squirt guns they'd brought. But Thor was busy curiously following a crab as it scuttled along and Pepper was lounging on a towel next to Natasha and reading a business magazine in a bikini.

They did, however, succeed in getting Sam's attention. He joined them in the waves.

The Vision was sitting in another folding chair—right next to Gran—in a casual button-up shirt and swim trunks, but he obviously had no intentions of getting in the water. He was reading a Stephen Hawking book, Wanda lying on a towel next to him, obviously enjoying the sun.

Bucky helped me lay out our giant two-person beach towel and then stripped off his dark blue T-shirt to reveal his powerful torso—which got a lot of the civilian women on the beach staring. Obviously he noticed them staring because he took my hand. "Come down to the waves. Let's go for a little swim," he suggested. I sighed and yanked my own T-shirt off—with his unasked-for help—and then took off my shorts too. I hated swimming with clothing on. I pulled my goggles up over my eyes. He stuck his hand back out for me. I took it, called a quick bye to my grandmother, and he practically dragged me into the ocean.

"Yeah! Power couple!" Tony cheered as we waded in right next to their water fight. "How nice of you to join us!" Steve had joined in the little melee as well—still with his top on—and he and Sam were going at it pretty rough. Bucky and I laughed and edged around them all, splashing them all a little where we could, until we'd circled them and were facing open water.

"Trust me?" Bucky asked.

I shrugged. I was a good, strong swimmer. I'd swam my whole life. "You? Yes. The ocean? Not so much," I answered honestly.

"Don't blame you," he remarked. "But do you trust me to make sure you don't drown?"

"Yes."

"Then let's swim!" He pulled his own goggles up around his face, gave me a goofy grin, and submerged himself in the murky water. His hand where it held mine tugged me downwards. I bent my knees and started to ease myself into the chill of the waves—

When he grabbed my knees with his metal arm and yanked them out from under me.

I shrieked and plunged in.

When I came up, spluttering and coughing, I splashed Bucky in the face. "Barnes!" I snapped angrily. He cackled and hugged me to his chest. He was about ribcage-deep in the water and I was up to my collarbones, making it hard for my feet to stay on the sandy sea floor. So I gave up. I just treaded the water like I would if I were in a pool.

"You know you love me," he teased. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me a bit higher out of the water. He put his hand on the back of my braided hair and gave me a big sarcastic salty kiss—making the other Avengers in shallower water cheer and whoop.

"We'll see about that," I muttered.

He scooped me up into his arms bridal style—most of my body still underwater—and laughed. "You're so adorable, Cass."

I gave him a sarcastic smirk.

And he dropped me in.

I admit, I saw that coming.

While I was under, I grabbed his ankles and pulled them out from underneath him, sending him down into the ocean with me. I snickered silently under the water and resurfaced. When Bucky came back up he took it upon himself to splash me. I coughed the stinging, salty seawater out of my throat and jumped on him in an attempt to dunk him. He was too solid. He barely even wobbled. "Dang it!" I protested. He cackled. I was literally just dangling around his neck with my legs just hanging there off the ocean floor. Like an idiot.

The two of us swam around for a while the others continued their water fight. Eventually, though, we got really tired. Or, I did. Bucky was fine. But I was to the point where I was probably dehydrated and spent and shouldn't be in the ocean anymore. My strokes were weaker and smaller and even though I couldn't keep up with Bucky's powerful, bigger wingspan _anyway,_ I was seriously starting to lag behind, struggling to try to keep up. Which was definitely not helping with my tired situation.

Finally I caught up to Bucky and grabbed his ankle. I was panting. "I can't do this anymore," I said, barely able to speak.

Bucky pulled himself up short. "Can you swim back to shore on your own?" he asked, almost panicky.

I nodded. "I think so," I answered.

Bucky raised his eyebrows sarcastically. "No offense, doll, but I doubt it." He held me around the waist with his good arm and swam with his legs and prosthetic arm. When we got back to a place where he could reach the bottom, he held me back in his arms and carried me out of the ocean while I held his neck. He set me down gently on the beach towel and got me a bottle of strawberry lemonade and another of water and sat next to me. He passed me the drinks with a smile. "Better?" he asked.

I guzzled the water, rehydrating. I nodded fervently. "Much," I answered.

* * *

 **End Note: Sometimes a little (LOT) of fluff is just what's needed to brighten my day. Hope this one maybe brightened some of yours!**

 **No guest reviews to reply to, so thank you all for reading, have a great general day, and if you've got a comment or something wasn't clear, feel free to leave a review! Thanks all!**


	18. 18 Halo and HYDRA

Bucky woke up about an hour and a half after he'd gone to sleep to a breeze caressing his face. Confused, he sat up. His left arm moved freely—meaning Cass was not, in fact, lying on it. He looked at the ruffled sheets where she usually rested. Empty.

A moment of irrational panic gripped his heart as his head whirled to look at the door. It was closed. He glanced over at the window.

It was open as far as it could be. The pretty white curtains were rustling in a light breeze and Cass's robe was missing from where it usually hung on the back of her desk chair. Bucky slid silently out of the bed and edged closer to the window.

He could hear quiet music playing. It was Beyoncé's _Halo_. Cass was humming along, almost silently. Her phone was clutched tightly in her hand. She was sitting cross-legged with her back against the wall, wrapped snugly in her robe. The loose hairs that had escaped her messy braid drifted idly around her face in the gentle wind that almost always seemed to whip around the higher floors of apartment buildings.

" _Think I'm addicted to your light_ ," Bucky sang along, climbing out the window. Cass jumped and twisted to look at him. He sat next to her and wrapped his flesh arm around her shoulders. She smirked and kept humming, leaning against his side. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked when the song was over.

"Yeah."

"You should have woken me."

"Nah. I'd hate to disturb the very little sleep you get anyway," she replied.

"I'm willing to lose a little bit more if it means helping you," he offered.

"No, really. I do this a lot—come sit out here, I mean. Especially if I'm having a hard time getting to sleep. It's relaxing. Just play the right music and I'll be out the second I get back in that bed. Today was just a long day and I felt the need to unwind in my own special way." She shrugged and slid her arm around his bare waist. "Sorry if I scared or woke you," she apologized.

"Don't be. I'm here to be your husband," he remarked. She smiled.

"Thanks."

He took her left hand in his metal one, Vibranium fingers gently playing with the wedding ring—twisting it back and forth to watch the diamonds catch the minimal light from the city and glitter. She watched too, smiling lightly. It was very peaceful on that fire escape, to Bucky, just to sit there with no obligations whatsoever, the girl he loved leaned against him.

Not that she knew he liked her like that. Though to be honest sometimes he was surprised that she hadn't worked it out. It wasn't like he was hiding his feelings—or at least, he hadn't been since she called with the emergency that she needed him to pretend to be her husband for a month.

It was almost amusing.

He knew deep down in his heart, though, that there was _no way_ she'd ever like him back. She was a beautiful, sweet, intelligent, funny little nerd who seemed to radiate light while being completely shameless about correcting some "fanboy" about a misunderstood concept in Star Wars that she had extensive information on. He was, indeed, truly addicted to her light. She was his little angel, even though she could never be _his_. Sometimes it made him sad, other times he was content with it. How could a girl like her ever fall in love with a monster like him? Even though he _tried_ to be the Bucky he once was back in the forties—a charismatic, charming, likable guy—he knew that he wasn't. There was too much Winter Soldier in him. Too much darkness. Too much blood on his hands. Too many nightmarish elements to his past.

Why on Earth would she ever like him?

She wouldn't.

With his normal hand, he started tracing patterns on her back between her shoulder blades. She grinned and leaned forward so he could see.

He licked his lips and wrote a big, uppercase _I_ , followed by a heart, and finished with an uppercase _U._ For several moments she didn't even seem to notice. Then she straightened up and turned her head to look at him. "Did you just write I Heart U on my back?" she asked quietly. There was no indignation or defense in her tone. Just a bit of incredulity and amusement. Despite the blush tinting his cheekbones, he kept a completely oblivious expression on his face.

"What? No," he answered, keeping his voice completely innocent. Unlike Natasha's background as an assassin, Bucky's required very little acting. Natasha would pretend to be someone she wasn't to gain her target's trust and then take them out. Bucky just hid in the shadows with a rifle—for the most part. So since he'd started trying to be normal again, he discovered that he wasn't a very good liar or a very good actor. The only thing he was good at was pretending he was the Bucky that Steve knew from the forties—even if he'd never felt farther from that man.

Cass raised one of her eyebrows but shrugged. "Okay…" she trailed off skeptically, smiling. Bucky held her closer as another breeze drifted over the side of the apartment building. Cass nuzzled into his side.

"Cass…?" he murmured, amused.

"Shut up, I'm cold," she retorted. Bucky started laughing quietly. "What?"

"Back when Steve was skinny, we'd be on the roof of his apartment building and it would be cold and he'd get under my sweater and every time I'd bring it up he'd say the _exact same thing_."

Cass chuckled and stretched her arms. "That's hilarious. And you let him?"

"Of course. If I didn't he'd get hypothermia."

Another laugh. "Ready to go in?"

"Yeah." He crawled back through the window and helped her in after him. They got in bed and Cass was asleep within moments. Bucky smiled, curled protectively around her, and drifted off, a peaceful, content smile on his face.

He was woken quite rudely what felt like ten minutes later by a vibrating phone with a ringtone that sounded like a marimba playing something quite pleasant and Cass patting him wearily in the chest with the back of her hand. "Your phone's ringing Bucky," she mumbled groggily, shuffling a bit where she was lying.

"Isn't that your phone?" he asked.

"Not my ringtone and I'm too lazy to customize for anyone except maybe Tony," she replied.

Bucky rolled onto his other side to grab his phone off the bedside and then answered it, flopping onto his back. "Hello?" he grumbled. Cass rested her head on his chest and relaxed.

"Buck! We found it," Steve said.

Bucky shot into an upright position—confusing Cass as she was forced off his chest back onto the pillow with the speed of his motion. She propped herself up on her elbow and looked around with half-open eyes. "I'll be right there," Bucky told Steve.

"'S goin' on?" Cass grumbled confusedly, rubbing her eyes with her other hand. Bucky was already out of the covers and getting dressed, pulling his utility belt out from under the bed, daggers hanging off of it. "So that's where you put it." Bucky snickered and yanked a black tank top over his head followed closely by a black leather jacket, running his fingers through his hair to tame it.

"Steve and the others found what appears to be a HYDRA base. _In the United States_ ," Bucky told Cass. "I'm sorry, but I can't sit this one out."

"I understand. Just—" She grabbed his wrist as he moved to leave. "Be careful. I need you to come home."

He smiled. "I will. And I should be back by morning."

She gave him a tired grin. "Steve won't let anything happen to you."

He chuckled. "More like I won't let anything happen to him." She snorted quietly. "But I promise I'll be back."

"You better."

He gave her a long, desperate kiss, holding the back of her head gently but firmly. "I promise."

And he took off. He stopped at his apartment and grabbed his Winter Soldier uniform—since he didn't want to keep it at Cass's—and went to Avengers Tower. He, Steve, Natasha, and Sam, all got changed and boarded the Quinjet quickly.

"So where is it?" Bucky asked. "The base I mean."

"Nevada," Sam answered as Natasha charted the course, sitting in the cockpit.

"Great," Steve remarked as he plopped into the seat next to Bucky. He dropped his voice. "How's Cass?"

"Sleepy," Bucky replied shortly. Steve gave him a skeptical look. "Absolutely hilarious. Wildly intelligent. Completely gorgeous." That made the captain nod with satisfaction. Very genuinely, he patted his best friend on the back and looked straight into his eyes.

"I ship you and Cass _so hard_ ," he remarked.

"What does that mean?" Bucky asked, confused. He'd heard Steve say it before once, back at the beginning, but he still had no clue what it meant and Cass still wasn't telling him.

"Let me explain. 'Ship' is short for 'relationship'. 'Shipping' in the world of fandoms and fanfiction is when one person likes the idea of two characters being in a relationship—hence the term. Other people may like the pairing as well, and when several people do, a 'ship name' is generated by someone in the fandom and other people adopt it. Usually a ship name is a mashup of the names of the people or characters. I am currently the captain of the Casscky ship, and Natasha is the first mate."

"Casscky?"

Steve nodded cheekily. "Yup."

Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

 **End Note: Oh Steve. We love you, but you can be quite a pain in Bucky's neck. (Haha! ;-D)**

 **To "Guest": Thank you so much! I'm excited that you're enjoying it! XD**

 **Thank you guys for reading! Have an awesome weekend! Questions? Comments? Feel free to leave 'em!**

 **(PS, if any of you go see Finding Dory, STAY TO THE END OF THE CREDITS! I just saw it, trust me!)**


	19. 19 Shopping in Manhattan

"Morning Gramma!" I greeted as I left my bedroom. "So, Bucky had to go out with the Avengers to deal with some crap and probably won't be back until tomorrow morning, so we've got the day to ourselves!" I put some waffles in the toaster and sat across from her at the table. "Wanna go shopping?" Gran knew that I hated shopping, but I lived in Manhattan. Shopping when in New York City was expensive, but almost required when visiting. I was willing to go shopping for Gramma Howell though just because she was in New York City. "Because I'm fine with it if you are!"

"That sounds great butterfly, but we can't go very fast. I'm getting too old for speed-walking."

I chuckled. "Don't worry. I'll call Tony and see if he'd be willing to send a car over."

"Oh, Cassie sweetie, don't bother your boss. I'll be fine."

" _Gramma_ ," I stressed. "Tony _loves_ helping me out with the most random of situations. I called him asking for the number of a good repairman for my phone and he showed up in a half-hour and fixed it himself for no charge. He thinks my civilian existence is hilarious and loves to help me because my job consists of helping him _a lot_. He won't mind sending over a car with a chauffeur so we can go shopping!"

Before Gramma could protest any more I grabbed my phone while I put the waffles on a plate and called Tony to ask. "Of course, kid!" he exclaimed. "That sounds like a fabulous idea! I'll send one right over! Want someone to go with you to make sure you're okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, New York can be dangerous."

"And whom are you thinking of sending?"

"Ms. Maximoff. You and she appear to be relatively good friends and as far as I know she's one of the strongest individuals on the team."

I sighed. "I'll only take her if _she_ wants to come with us."

" _Wanda!"_ I heard Tony shout through the phone. I didn't hear her reply because she was too far away but I could still hear Tony. "Wanna go shopping with Cass and her gramma?" There was a pause and then Tony's voice was normal again instead of shouting. "She'll be in the car when it gets there."

"Sounds awesome! Thank you so much Tony."

"You're so welcome, kiddo. Have a great day with your gramma. How are you coping without your husband?"

"I think I'll survive a day without him," I retorted sarcastically. "Bye Tony. Thanks again."

"See you later!"

I hung up and turned to Gran. "He's sending a car right over. Wanda is going to join us."

"Which one was she?"

"The one with the brown hair like mine that was wearing the red dress. With the foreign accent."

"Ah yes! She was particularly kind. But she seemed sad."

"She lost her only brother a while ago. He was the only family she had left. She's still taking it kind of hard."

"I don't blame her. Your grampa's been gone for about a decade and I still feel it."

I gave my gran a hug. "I know. I do too sometimes." We ate our breakfast quietly and then went to get dressed. Because I had literally no one to impress since Bucky was gone, I put on some comfy cloth trousers that looked like pajama pants but actually weren't, and a sweater that had been hanging in the big closet next to Bucky's clothes. I could smell his scent on my sweater as I pulled it over my head. I grinned and put my shoes on. I grabbed my jacket and purse and left the master bedroom. Gran was in her "shopping" clothes with her little bag hanging off one shoulder. I glanced at my phone. There was a text from an unfamiliar number that read, _Mrs. Barnes, my name is Happy Hogan and I will be your driver for the day. I have Ms. Maximoff in the car with me. We have arrived at your building._ Attached was a picture of Wanda with a smile on her face, one hand up and glowing red. I chuckled. "The car's here, Gran! Let's get going!"

We left my apartment, got in the elevator, and rode it down to ground level. There was a man in a suit standing next to the passenger-side doors of a very nice black Rolls Royce parked on the curb outside, looking very professional. "Mr. Hogan?" I asked. He smiled tightly and nodded as the back window rolled down and Wanda waved. I waved back as Mr. Hogan—who I was pretty sure I'd met before—opened the front and back doors. I put Gramma Howell in the front seat to showcase the city and took the back to sit next to Wanda. She and I had become pretty good friends.

"Where to, Mrs. Barnes?" Hogan inquired.

I glanced at the woman next to me. "Wanda? Any ideas?"

She shrugged. "Wherever," she commented.

"Let's go to that one street that's like one over from the Tower. They've got some good shops and tourist-y places," I told the driver. He nodded seriously and pulled away from the curb.

When we got to the first shop, us three women hopped out and Hogan stayed in the car. We went in, looking forward to just browsing. Wanda and I weren't particularly interested in buying anything but Gramma wanted a couple souvenirs. I really wanted to insist she get a "I [Heart] NY" T-shirt but I knew she would never wear it.

After Gran got a snow-globe from the first place, we moved a little faster through the stores until we reached a clothes shop—like a legitimate one, not the boring ones with clichés all over them for tourists to take home.

"Cassandra," Wanda piped up as Gran browsed through striped shirts. Wanda still wasn't in the business of calling me by my preferred nickname, instead using my full one even though I'd introduced myself to her as Cass. I looked up from the shirts Gramma Howell was looking at to see her beckoning me from a few racks over. I glanced at my grandmother. She nodded to give me permission to leave her for a moment.

"What's up?" I asked.

The Scarlet Witch grinned mischievously and pulled a dress off the rack. "I think your _husband_ would love this on you," she answered. I pursed my lips.

The dress was about as short as the black one I'd worn to the party at the Tower, except it was form-fitting, blood red, and sleeveless. It literally looked like a curve-cut tube of fabric. "What makes you think that? Red isn't exactly my color." Not to mention the fact that I never wore dresses that didn't have sleeves or straps of some kind because I was paranoid that they would fall off.

"Because this is a gorgeous dress and you're a gorgeous woman," Wanda replied mischievously.

I smirked. "No thanks. I think I'll pass," I said. She shrugged sarcastically and put it back on the rack.

For the entire rest of the shopping trip Wanda pushed the "sexy" clothing at me—probably as a joke—all of which I refused. But both she and Gran were getting a kick out of it so I did my best to keep my exasperation to myself.

Finally, after Gran had bought that snow-globe, a couple nice striped shirts, a new pair of trousers, and some super-fancy tennis shoes, the trip came to end. I'm sure at some point we stopped for lunch because it took most of the day, but I didn't remember eating anything. I liked whirlwind days because they always felt like I just woke up and instantly got to go back to bed.

On the drive back to my apartment, Wanda leaned over the middle seat to whisper in my ear, "I know the marriage is fake for your grandmother, but do you love him?"

I coughed awkwardly and fiddled with some of my hair. "I don't know. As a friend? Absolutely," I whispered back. "But I don't know yet if we could ever be anything more than what we are—friends. Why would a guy like him like a girl like me?"

Wanda gave me a very sarcastic look—the kind Natasha was prone to. "Because you're beautiful? Funny? Intelligent? Friendly? Likable? Downright loveable?" she retorted quietly while Gran started rambling to Hogan about growing up in New York but not having been back for decades. "The entire team sees you as a younger sister, Cassandra. We all love you. We would all do anything for you." I rolled my eyes. I wasn't very good at accepting compliments. "There are far more reasons Bucky _could_ love you than _could not_ ," Scarlet Witch said, sincere and serious.

I sighed again. "Thanks Wanda. We'll see about that."

"I'm being honest. I don't see a single reason why he's not already madly in love with you."

* * *

 **End Note: I don't have time to respond to reviews tonight, so maybe tomorrow! Also, I have never been to New York City _ever_ so I don't know anything about the shops. I figured if I just kept it vague, it'd be okay.**

 **To "Guest": Glad you're on the Casscky ship too! It's pretty fun over here! XD (Hahaha!)**

 **Thank you for reading! Love y'all! Leave a question or comment if you've got one! Don't be shy! I promise I don't bite!**


	20. 20 Safe Return

Gran and I had a simple dinner after such a long day in the city. I was so tired (I mentioned I hate shopping right?) that I just got in the shower, put on my pajamas, said goodnight to my grandmother, and got in bed.

The utter lack of Bucky's presence was very weird, all of the sudden. The fact that I could spread my legs out as far as I wanted and not disturb him was bizarre. I'd just gotten so used to him always being there that it almost felt _wrong_ to not have him there—which of course was ridiculous because after Gramma Howell left we'd both go back to our own lives and he'd go back to his apartment. But I missed his warmth and comforting hold anyway. It was like cuddling with a giant, warm, muscly teddy bear with a metal arm.

I curled up in a ball on my side, wet braid draped over the other side of the pillow. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to stay up all night worrying about whether or not he would come home or if I should just go to bed. Most of my brain was saying sleep but there was one part saying stay up. But I was so exhausted from the long day that there was no way I could stay awake all night waiting for him to come home.

I put my phone on my bedside table and turned the volume on as loud as it would go. If something happened, someone would call me—be it Bucky, Steve, or Tony. Someone would let me know.

Content in knowing that, and unable to fight the sleep any longer, I dropped off, completely spent.

As usual I had a dream or two that didn't make any sense whatsoever—but that was fairly standard in my head so it wasn't anything to worry too much about. I probably wouldn't remember them when I woke up anyway. And I'm not going to go into too much detail because they weren't very important—just know that they featured the giant Marshmallow snowman from _Frozen_ and a couple dancing penguins.

Later I was told that Bucky got back about six-thirty in the morning while I was still asleep. Gran told him that I was still asleep in the bedroom. He set his jacket on the coat rack, came into the master bedroom, gently eased onto the bed so he wouldn't wake me, and laid down next to me, curling up around my balled-up form.

At around nine I finally woke up. My eyes peeled open to see his icy blue eyes glittering with humor. He had a small cut just below his eye that had obviously been patched up—with a Disney Princess Band-Aid—but otherwise he was squeaky clean. In just his tank top.

"Good morning, beautiful," he greeted softly, tracing the backs of his fingers down my cheek.

"How did it go?"

"We destroyed everything. The guards are all either dead or in custody of the federal government."

"You're very clean for destroying everything."

"I showered at the Tower," he whispered. "Didn't want to wake you."

"You are _far_ too good for me, James Buchanan Barnes."

"See, love, it is my firm belief that the opposite is true. How did a monstrous assassin like me end up with an exquisite angel like you?"

I snorted. "I think the term you're looking for is _giant nerd_ , not angel," I muttered tiredly.

Bucky chuckled and laced his fingers through my messy hair to rest them on the back of my head. "Never," he whispered, giving me a kiss on each half-open eyelid. "So perhaps you enjoy the 'nerdy' aspects of life. So what? That doesn't make you any less of an angel, sweetheart. You radiate light and joy like no one I've ever met before—and I'm addicted to all of it." I was very impressed at how thoroughly he inhabited his role. If he weren't an Avenger he could have made a pretty good career in Hollywood.

I smiled and buried my face into his warm chest, pressing my nose against the fabric of his tank top, breathing in his scent. It felt comforting, just to have him there, with his arms protectively around me, shielding me from the world. I'd never really thought of myself as a romantic. I'd always had too much attitude. I argued with men more than I flirted—mostly because the ones I seemed to encounter were almost always _wrong_ and needed to be _taught a lesson_ —but I liked lying there, content and safe.

With Bucky.

"You need to stop being so poetic," I mumbled into the soft cloth of his top. "You're making me blush."

He kissed the top of my head. "No guarantees, my love." He chuckled again and stroked my hair idly, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I was back to half-asleep already because I was still tired from all the shopping but at the same time, I was grinning like an idiot. It was so nice to have him home.

 _Back,_ I corrected myself. _Not home_.

Whatever. I was so tired I couldn't bring myself to particularly care. It wasn't like I'd said it out loud or anything so what did it matter?

"Hungry?" I asked.

"Nah. Tony had his robots make us a horrific amount of pancakes. And I am not particularly proud to admit that the four of us ate them all," he replied. I chuckled tiredly while he rubbed my back between my shoulder blades idly. I thought about being indignant and protesting the closeness because we weren't actually married but I figured it was fine because it was comfortable and warm and I was still really tired. I seemed to be in a perpetual state of exhausted since Gran showed up… seven or eight days ago.

I smirked and closed my eyes. "Well, I'm getting a little hungry. So I'm going to get up… in just a minute when I'm not so exhausted… and go get some breakfast."

Bucky sat up, doodling the area between my shoulder blades before standing up. "You stay here, doll. I'll go make you something to eat. You sleep a little longer. When I'm done I'll wake you." He brushed my hair out of my face, kissed my temple, smirked as I blushed, and retreated from the bedroom, out to the kitchen. I groaned and planted my head back on the pillow and let my eyes droop closed again. It felt good to sleep in a bit.

Almost an hour later, Bucky eased back onto the bed and started gently stroking my hair to wake me up. I made some weird cooing noise and shook my head a bit. "Five more minutes," I grumbled. I heard him chuckle.

"Can't do that, sweetheart. You've gotta get up before your breakfast gets cold."

Curious, I held my hands out for him. He leaned down and let me wrap my arms around his shoulders before picking up my knees and standing up. He took me out of the bedroom and sat me down in the kitchen. He set some chocolate chip pancakes _drowned_ in syrup and whipped cream in front of me with a mug of hot chocolate made with the melted marshmallows. Gran was there too, grinning.

I took a bite of a pancake and felt like melting. "Ohhhhhhhhhh myyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy gooooooooooooooooooosh!" I moaned with pleasure. Bucky and Gramma Howell both laughed as I slowly chewed and swallowed.

"You married a man who can make a good breakfast—that's important!" Gramma commented.

I blushed guiltily and cut up another chunk of pancake before putting it in my mouth. "I wholeheartedly agree," I muttered.

* * *

 **End Note: Your guys' reviews have been great, by the way. Always make me laugh and smile. They mean so much to me to get some feedback. Keep it up! Y'all are the best readers a girl could ask for!**

 **Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment if you've got one or a question if something wasn't clear!**


	21. 21 How We Met

"So what's on the docket for today?" I asked when breakfast was eaten and cleaned up and we'd all gotten dressed. I was sitting on the sofa with my feet on Bucky's lap. He was playing with my toes, wiggling them back and forth and tugging on them. It kinda tickled so I kept twitching them out of his fingers while he chuckled.

"Well, first, you told me the day after I arrived the brief version of how you met, but I want to hear the whole story!"

"There's… not really much to tell," I remarked, hesitating a bit in confusion.

"Well, then, tell it in almost uncomfortably minute detail," Gramma suggested. Bucky and I glanced at each other and smiled. We could do that. Bucky gave me a nod, indicating I should start—and he'd either take over or correct me when I was wrong.

 _I'd been the Avengers' assistant for a good while and I knew most of the "original" team pretty well. I got a call from Steve on a lovely day in early March—_ a little more than three years before Gran came to visit _—asking if I wanted to join him for lunch because he had a friend he thought I'd like to meet. This friend was joining the team soon and moving into the Tower and Steve thought it would be a good idea for me to meet him before he moved in so he'd have another friend living in the Tower in case he needed it. "This guy's gone through a lot, Cass. He might need some… support sometimes. Like a hug. But I really think you'll like him. He's a likable guy. Friendly. Charming. The sort."_

 _"You make it sound like you want me to date him."_

 _"Well… you_ could _date him if you want, but I'm not going to push you at him or him at you," the captain remarked._ (Apparently that changed when Gran came to visit because now he was pushing us at each other all the time!)

 _But I agreed and went out to lunch with him, and there I met James Buchanan Barnes—in a small café in Brooklyn on a cold March day. He was cordial and kind and shook my hand with his normal one instead of the metal one—probably because he correctly assumed I'm right-handed—and I made sure not to stare at the prosthetic. It sure wasn't the strangest thing I'd seen as an assistant to the Avengers. The Vision meditating while hovering about five feet off the ground with that Stone in his forehead faintly glowing while his android eyes focused in and out like a camera being one of the weirder things._

 _I'd noticed Bucky staring at me almost the whole time—but I figured it was because I was one of the few people who didn't stare at his arm or cringe away from him. He didn't say much. He just stared. Steve and I made pleasant conversation while we ate, trying our best to include the silent brunet sat across from me. But he didn't seem to want to say much. He would smile and chuckle, but words didn't seem to be coming to him._

"Now _wait!_ Hang on a sec! _"_ Bucky protested as I told the story. "I talked! I thought I was quite amiable!"

I gave him a skeptically raised eyebrow while Gran sniggered. "Honey," I retorted. "You said maybe ten words the whole time. Remember you had just starting being 'yourself' again. What you thought was a lot of talking and being friendly kinda wasn't."

"Okay. Now let me tell my side of the story."

I switched which ankles were crossed on his lap and relaxed against the back of the sofa, folding my arms. "Be my guest," I remarked.

"Okay, so Cass comes just a little bit late, right? 'Cause she's coming all the way to Steve's temporary place in Brooklyn from Manhattan during the lunch rush. But she timed it well enough that she's maybe five minutes later than Steve's agreed meeting time," Bucky started. "So, he and I are sitting at the table, waiting for her to show up, and _man_ am I nervous. At this point, I had just barely gotten control of the Winter Soldier and whatever. I'm not very comfortable around people. They stare at my arm and they cringe if I get too close like I'm going to hurt them—which I'm not. I had control."

"Back to the point," I nudged.

"Right. So anyway, Steve and I are waiting, getting a few glances from the other people, like they're wondering if we're really Captain America and that crazy guy with a metal arm who had something to do with the Triskellion fiasco. And then she finally comes in—with a gust of wind blowing her hair around her head and making her jacket sort of flip around her body. She looks around the café and Steve calls out to her. When she hears him, she glances over to see us…" He paused, looking off into the distance. Probably for dramatic effect. "And I am _blown away_. All I see is this exquisitely beautiful creature standing just inside the doorway, looking a bit windswept. She comes over to us with this gorgeous, bright grin on her face. Steve gives her a hug and introduces her to me and me to her. I stand from where I've been sitting and put my flesh hand out and shake hers. She gives my prosthetic only a tiny glance—like she's just making sure I actually have it."

"That's so sweet," Gran commented.

"And from that moment on, I had a _serious_ crush on her. She was the first 'outsider' to treat me like a _person_ —not a half-crazed ex-assassin. I mean, I'd met lots of beautiful girls—especially back in the forties—but she was more than just beautiful. She was divine. Not to sound too cheesy but I saw her as my own personal angel sent to remind me that it was all going to be okay and get better." Bucky paused to lick his lips and gather his thoughts. "I will admit that wasn't the moment I fell wholeheartedly in love with her, but that was the first time I was given a sample of her light—and I was addicted to it."

I blushed and looked from his profile to my knees in embarrassment. He was a creative and poetic little twerp. "Oh my gosh," I whispered, amused and self-conscious.

"So when did you fall in love with her?" Gran asked, completely absorbed in the story.

"It was a couple months later. She was at the Tower for the day, as usual, running around up and down the building trying to help everyone. I usually kept to myself. I had no reason to call for her assistance. I was just taking the elevator up to the gym when it stopped and the doors opened and she stumbled in, covered in some strange bluish goo. She didn't even notice me at first. She only realized I was there when she saw the button for the floor I was going to lit."

"It's true," I admitted. I couldn't believe that out of _all_ the shenanigans he could have picked, he chose _that_ one.

"And she whirled around to look at me, her hair spewed the blue goo _all over_ my front. And she freaked out. 'Oh my goodness! I am _so sorry!'_ she exclaimed. I kept trying to brush it off but she wasn't having it. She tried to wipe me off but it only made it worse. As she started to flounder and flail I just laughed and reassured her it was alright. She was so embarrassed. It was so cute. That was the moment I fell irrevocably in love with her." He leaned over and gave me a kiss on the forehead while I stayed the color of a ripe strawberry. I kissed him back when he leaned down for my lips, pushing my fingers into his overlong hair while he cradled the back of my head in his hand.

"You two are the cutest couple I have seen in decades," Gran commented.

I laughed and rolled off of the sofa. "Thanks Gramma," I mumbled quietly. That dang guilty blush was creeping into my cheekbones again so I had to look away. I hated lying to her but I was in far too deep now to tell the truth. We were only on day eight of her vacation to New York.

Oh man. Eight out of thirty? Was I going to survive the rest of the month?

* * *

 **End Note: Sorry this was a bit late. Had an unusually busy weekend (meaning I spent half of it playing Pokemon Go because I'm a mature adult). But the next update will hopefully be on Saturday again.**

 **(Lotta guest reviews this time, guys!)**

 **To "Defenestration (Guest)": I think that did make you review 300, my friend! Exciting! Don't worry about being gone for so long! You should see how far behind I am in my reading! (Sorry Kelsoc.) And yeah, the story is... quite long at the moment. Typical novels are over 70,000 words and I'm around there. *cough* I don't know if it's too long... but they'll survive. Originally when I started writing this it was only going to be like 30 chapters (one for each day), but then days started needed a little more love. To "Rosemary (Guest)": Hey, no problem in forgetting, okay? I'm WAY behind on my usual reading from being busy. Don't feel guilty at all. You're obviously forgiven. I'm not mad or anything. To "Guest": I'm not sure... what do you THINK is going to happen? To "Guest": There will be an end somewhere. But I don't know about getting "stuck". If all my readers get tired of the story, they can stop reading anytime. I'll still be posting for those who want to stay if I feel like the story hasn't finished itself. And if I'm posting for no one, I'm posting for me. So I don't know. To "120 AM (Guest)": Thank you for the enthusiasm! I apologize if I threw off your sleep schedule! To "Guest": Thank you! Next chapter's obviously here for you! Apologies for the tardiness!**

 **Thanks all for reading and reviewing! You guys make my day! Don't be shy: if you've got something to say, go ahead and say it!**


	22. 22 Ask Me Out

"Where are you?" I asked after Bucky answered his phone at about ten the next morning and I'd woken up alone with his side of the bed empty and neatly made.

"The Tower. I wrote you a note and put it on the counter," he answered.

"There's nothing here," I commented, looking around. "Anyway, you busy?"

"Not particularly. Just doing a bit of a workout." I could hear him panting between words.

"Okay good. Because Tony has insisted on taking Gran shopping all day today and then to a Broadway show tonight and is refusing to let us 'double' with them, saying he'll send us to the same show tomorrow night. So… um… if you want… we could go on a date. Is there somewhere I could take you for dinner?" I was blushing the color of a self-conscious strawberry, grateful that Bucky couldn't see my face.

I heard him chuckle. "Sweetheart, you know full well that that's not how it works," he remarked. "Let me fix it for you. Is there somewhere that _I_ can take _you_ for dinner?" I snickered just a little bit and put my face in my free hand.

"Yes. There is."

"Then may I take you out to that place?"

"You may."

"It's settled then. Will I be picking you up around five?"

"Bucky, you live here," I pointed out.

I could sense his smile in his voice. "Good point. We'll leave at around five, then."

"Deal."

"Love you, Cass."

"Love you, Bucky," I replied, feeling my voice hitch a bit.

Gran got all dressed up—grumbling just a bit about shopping again since she'd already "been there, done that" (I love her)—and left my apartment about fifteen minutes later with Tony.

Half hour after that Bucky finally came back.

I was in the master bedroom when he came in. I could tell he'd showered at the Tower because he was wearing jeans and a green Henley with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows and his combat boots with a duffel bag over his shoulder. I could also tell because I could smell his aftershave or cologne or whatever it was that made him smell so good. I wasn't sure _how_ I knew that it was his aftershave or cologne or whatever but I knew the scent and I knew it was his. He dropped the duffel bag just inside the bedroom door and flopped onto the bed next to me.

"My arm is sore," he commented jokingly.

And because I'm an idiot, I replied with, "Not your _arms_?"

He legitimately snorted. "Cass, sweetheart, I don't know if you know this, but I have a _metal arm_ that doesn't have muscles in it to get sore," he remarked sarcastically.

I blushed and planted my face firmly in my hands. "I am so stupid," I muttered, voice muffled by the skin of my palms. Bucky chuckled good-humoredly and rubbed my back between my shoulder blades before planting his face between them and continuing his laughing. I could feel his nose on my spine.

"You are so innocent sometimes, Cass." His voice was muddled by my hair and my shirt. I was so embarrassed I kept my face buried in my hands. After a minute, he coaxed me back out. His overlong hair was still slightly damp and hung scraggily on either side of his face. His bright blue eyes were twinkling with amusement. "There we go. There's those pretty eyes," he murmured when I finally dropped my hands.

I tugged on his hair where it was hanging near his lip. "I swear, Bucky, just give me ten minutes with some clippers and your hair will be as handsome as the rest of you," I commented, tugging again.

He laughed. "You really don't like my long hair, do you?" he asked amusedly.

I pursed my lips, looking him right in the eye. "Certain men can pull it off. Thor, for example, usually looks fairly decent with the long hair. You, on the other hand, look _so much better_ when your hair is shorter. I've seen the pictures from World War Two. Just… ten minutes."

His hand circled the back of my neck and held me there. "Not yet, doll. Maybe someday. But not yet."

" _Why_?" I groaned in complaint.

The amusement in his eyes vanished like a puff of smoke. My small smile faltered. Bucky heaved a huge sigh and sat up properly, sitting on the edge of the bed next to me rather than sprawled over the whole thing.

"I keep the long hair because I haven't let go of the Winter Soldier yet. I'm not all Bucky Barnes again. And I never will be. There's too much HYDRA burned into my instincts. I can get close to Bucky, but I'm not the kid from Brooklyn I was. I'm keeping the long hair until I'm far enough away from HYDRA and the Winter Soldier that I feel more like me again. And that day isn't today. Maybe someday. Just not yet." He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me to his chest like I was a teddy bear.

"Okay," I murmured, leaning against his collarbone.

"So, _Mrs. Barnes_ , where would you like to go to dinner tonight?"

"I have a place in mind," I replied.

"And would you like to go somewhere before or after?"

"Not sure. So you have an idea where to go?"

"I kind of wanted to take you laser tagging."

I laughed heartily. "I'm not the best at laser tag."

Bucky shrugged. "I don't care. I think it would be fun to see how good of a sniper you are," he informed me. I snickered.

"Coming from one of the greatest snipers in the world, that's not very comforting," I muttered.

Bucky gave me a strong hug. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll do great. Have you ever gone laser tagging before?"

"A couple times when I was a teenager," I answered. "But you don't want to just go to a somewhat nice dinner and then come back here, pop some popcorn, and watch a movie?" I rested my head against his chest and burrowed into his warmth. The master bedroom was always cold and I never knew why—though I suspected the window was slightly broken or the heat radiator was broken.

"That sounds like a lovely date, sweetheart, but, see, we never actually _got_ the crazy-teenager-dates period of our relationship, so if I have the opportunity to take you on modern dates like teenagers without your grandmother, I am going to do it." He gave me a cheesy grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

I chuckled lightly. "Okay then. We'll go laser tagging, and then out to dinner," I relented. Bucky grinned wider and held me closer, burying his face in my hair and blowing on the back of my neck. I squealed and leapt off the bed. "Stopitthattickles!" I yelped so quickly it was basically one word. Bucky laughed and hopped off the bed as well. He scooped me up into his arms like I was a doll or something and squeezed me close to him.

"You are _so_ goosey!" he exclaimed, poking his fingers into my side. It tickled. I squirmed and laughed but screamed. He set me down and laughed. I swatted at him like he was an annoying bug.

"I know," I retorted irritably. "I've always been that way."

Bucky forced a big hug onto me. "Oh you're adorable!"

"Stop it!" I protested. "There's no one here to pretend for!"

"Who says I'm pretending, Cassie? I actually think you're hilarious," Bucky commented. Any flirtatious joking was gone and he sounded genuine. I rolled my eyes and patted him on the chest before skirting around the edge of the bed and dodging out of the master bedroom.

"Okay."

Had it been anyone else calling me "Cassie" I would have decapitated them.

* * *

 **End Note: It has been a _busy_ couple of weeks, guys! I'm sorry I've been absent.**

 **And I'm still kinda busy so I gotta go. I'll try to reply to reviews later! Sorry!**

 **Thanks for reading guys! Love y'all.**


	23. 23 Blue Team

I pulled the heavy vest on over my T-shirt, hefting the unwieldy gun in my free hand. I lifted my arm and Bucky helped me secure the straps. There were four other people on our team and six people on the other team. Most of them were about our age—probably because it was too early in the evening for teenagers to be joining. I don't know.

"Okay, stay close to me, and keep my back against yours. I'll go backwards because I'm pretty good at it," Bucky murmured. "And, I know you won't forget this because you're smarter than I am, but don't shoot at the people with the bright blue vest lights—just the red."

I smirked. "I got that. I _have_ done this before you know. It's just been a while."

Bucky chuckled. "I know. Just making sure you know our strategy."

I looked over the gun to check for flaws. "I didn't realize we had a strategy."

I got a wink from him. "We do."

The twelve people, us included, were released into the dark room lit with black lights full of tall black pillars that had little bright green and orange triangles, circles, and squares on them. Bucky and I almost instantly disappeared apart from the lights on our vests—because we were both in pretty much all-black. I had on some skinny jeans and a black T-shirt and Bucky was almost the same—except he hated skinny jeans so he was wearing normal jeans.

I could feel his back pressed against mine as we prowled into the black-lit arena. I felt adrenaline rush through my blood as Bucky hooked his metal arm through the crook of my gun-arm and drag me behind a pillar—barely avoiding getting shot by someone on the other team.

"That was close," he breathed. His white teeth lit up eerily in the black lights as he gave me a smile. I could slightly see the whites of his eyes glimmering a strange purple, but it was so dark it was hard to see.

"No kidding!" I whispered.

"Stay right here," he instructed. I started watching the rest of the arena for other red-vests I could shoot as he dodged out from behind the pillar and shot at the young man that had tried to get us. Bucky was, of course, the superior sniper to this young man, and managed to get him three times in the two seconds he had emerged from hiding. He hit the pillar with his back when he came back around and gave me a giant grin. "That was fun!" I snickered and nodded towards the ramp that would take us up to the second floor/lifted platform area. He gave me an affirmative nod and we rushed towards it.

I let off my gun twice as someone from the other team—who appeared to be attempting to guard the ramp—tried to get at us. I hit his shoulder sensor with my little laser-pointer of a projectile and slipped past him into the maze of columns on the top floor. "Yes!" I cheered quietly, doing a fist-pump with my free hand.

"Did you get him in the shoulder?" Bucky asked as he shot at the same guy from behind.

"Yup!" I replied.

"Wow! That's impressive!"

I did a little victory dance. "Thanks!"

"From up here, let's split up. Meet me back downstairs in the far corner from here as fast as you can. We're going to try a new strategy."

I smirked. "Sounds great!"

Bucky disappeared into the shadows as if he was made of them. For the moment, I was super grateful he was on my team. A laser-tagging ex-assassin would probably be the best player this little venue had ever had in their arena.

I was determined to rack up as many points as possible and see if I could beat him.

Unlikely, but not impossible, and I was determined to try.

I moved quickly through the maze of pillars, almost recklessly. If I got shot, my shields would go up for two seconds to keep me from getting shot again just long enough for me to attempt to dodge out of the way. My breathing slowed until it was silent as I moved on almost-silent feet towards the ramp on the opposite side of the arena from the one we'd gone up.

I probably only nailed about four people on the top floor and two on the bottom as they passed under the railed-off square cut in the second level's floor—and I was sure Bucky had already scoured the whole thing and gotten everyone on the opposing team like four times—by the time I reached the diagonal opposite corner where we'd agreed to meet. I stood next to the dimly lit "charging station" that one on the blue team could simply walk past to reload their "ammo", still scoping the area for red vests and shooting when necessary, but Bucky was nowhere to be found.

I could go search for him, but that would probably mean I'd miss him reaching the corner by about five seconds and then I wouldn't be able to find him again until the lights turned back on and we were herded back into the prep room to de-vest.

So I stayed where I was. He'd reach me.

Accurately enough, almost five seconds after I considered leaving to go look for him, he materialized out of the shadows, grabbed my arm gently, and pushed me against the walls into the corner behind me—barely getting me out of the way of a shot I hadn't seen coming because the stupid shooter was cowering behind a pillar and just flailing their gun around. My back hit the walls and made the plastic on my vest _click_ as it impacted.

Bucky was smiling as he stood between me and the entire rest of the arena. I could see the pale blue lights of his vest reflected in his bright blue eyes.

Something cold pressed against my face and slid back until it was under and behind my ear in my hair—his metal hand. Before I could even think about what was happening, he leaned in and kissed me. It bordered on passionate for quite a long while before we heard the literal Star Wars _pew, pew_ from behind us. The voice in Bucky's vest's speakers instantly said, "Shields up!"

Both of us moved behind a nearby pillar so quickly that the voice didn't have a chance to say "Shields down!" before the opponent had a chance to shoot us.

"Well, doll, that was totally worth it," Bucky whispered to me before melting back into darkness. I rolled my eyes and tried to follow him, but we had dodged into the blackest part of the arena and the lights of my vest only a few inches below my nose were practically blinding.

I only got a few more shots in when there was a loud _clunk_ and the lights turned back on.

Sighing, I turned around to head back to the prep room—

And bumped directly into someone.

"Oops! Sorry!" I exclaimed, moving to edge around the man. He gave me a nod as I quickly made my way back into the prep room.

After a moment Bucky slipped in like a wraith and gave me a smile. He gave me a hand with getting my vest off. As he hung it on its bar, he leaned forward and gave me a quick peck on the lips with a cheeky wink. I smirked and rolled my eyes, but I didn't have time to say anything because at that moment, a worker came in and turned the TV hanging near the ceiling on. "And the results are in!" the teenage girl announced.

The display showed both teams' scores—and each one's high-score-player. Unsurprisingly, Bucky was ours. I was third. After a moment, the display flickered and three words appeared on the screen, accompanied by a booming voice from the speakers.

 _"Blue team wins!"_

* * *

 **End Note: So, I'm fairly certain no one really cares about Review Responses really. They just want the next chapter. So since I usually update in a hurry, I'm just going to not respond much anymore. It always happens this way. I start off really good at responding, and then I just... peter out. Usually with about this many chapters. Sorry guys if you like it when I respond. I feel like that's why I have so many reviews actually, because I'd reply to so many of them.**

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 **If you have a question or a comment, feel free to leave it! I'm going to try to reply to questions!**


	24. 24 50's Diner

Back at my apartment after our very victorious laser tag session, Bucky and I changed out of our very casual laser-tagging clothes and into more dressy dinner attire.

Bucky snagged me around the waist as I went to grab my leather jacket. He held me close to him with a grin. "You know, beautiful, I never get tired of seeing you in a dress. Doesn't matter the color or the style. You always look beautiful," he murmured quietly. I blushed a very deep red shade and bowed my head so I wasn't looking him in the eye. His free hand cupped my face under my chin and lifted it up to look at him. "Don't be embarrassed." He leaned down and gave me another deep kiss, sliding his hand back into my hair—that I hadn't quite finished brushing yet—and pulling me closer to him with his other that was wrapped around my waist.

I feel completely shameless in admitting that I kissed him back. Because I did. I didn't mind even though there was no way he ever could like me like _that_ because we were both… "practicing" I suppose, for times when we were around my grandmother.

When we pulled away from each other, I put my jacket on and finished brushing my hair. We went down to street level and got in a taxi to my favorite restaurant near the Avengers Tower. It was 50's diner-themed. Bucky opened my door for me and offered me his arm. I took it as I slid out of the cab and we entered the restaurant. I leaned against Bucky's arm, feeling content and happy and better than I had in a while.

We were seated pretty quickly for New York City right before the usual dinner rush and we chatted for about ten minutes and perused the menu while we waited for the server to come take our order.

Bucky scooted around the booth until he was sitting right next to me instead of across from me. He took my hand under the table and gave me a cheeky grin. "Permission to steal a kiss?" he asked mischievously, eyes twinkling with humor and some positive emotion I couldn't identify but still made me smile because it was so sweet.

"Any particular reason why?" I teased.

He pursed his lips and grinned again. "No. Just because we're on a date," he answered, playing with my wedding ring.

I pursed my lips and looked up at him. "Oh sure. Why not?"

He licked his lower lip, bit it, leaned down, tilted his head to the side, and gave me a kiss. It was quick and sweet—nothing like the passionate make-out in the corner of the laser tag arena—and the second it was over the server approached us. Bucky looked over the menu and then shushed me when I opened my mouth to order. "No," he pushed. He looked over the menu again. "She'll have a hot chocolate with whipped cream on top—also water—and the chicken strip basket. I, on the other hand, will have a cheeseburger with some fries and a cola with a lemon—also water," Bucky told the server. The girl with a fish-scale braid nodded and brightly wrote everything down.

"That's so sweet, by the way, ordering for her," she told him. Bucky looked down at me and winked.

"Thanks," he told her. She trotted off.

"How did you know what I was going to order?" I asked.

He smirked, blue eyes twinkling again. "You always order the same types things, Miss Picky Eater, depending on which place Tony is ordering out from. It's kinda cute," he replied. I smiled amusedly and rested my forehead on his normal shoulder.

Then I looked back up at him. "Since when do you ask for permission to kiss me?"

He shrugged cheekily. "I just figured that since we're not actually married, sometimes I should make sure it's okay with you for me to… _stay in character_ as much as possible." I chuckled and nodded, tugged on his shoulder until he leaned down, and gave him a kiss—another quick peck that didn't last very long but felt very sweet.

"I don't mind," I decided.

We sat in almost complete silence for a long time, sat very close together. I was absorbing as much of Bucky's warmth as I possibly could. It was mid-May so it wasn't exactly cold, but it wasn't exactly warm either. Not to mention that for some reason my body temperature was lower than most normal people's so I was always cold anyway—I think it's because my blood doesn't flow through my body very well. One time I had to get my blood drawn and the phlebotomist literally had to rub my upper arm to coax blood to flow into the tube—I didn't watch because it was gross but it happened because I felt her thumb pressing downward trying to get blood to come out. Ick. So yeah, I liked sitting so close to Bucky where his heat from his super-soldier metabolism could help my core temperature maybe rise by like half a degree.

Finally the nice server came back with our orders. It was delicious. The first bite of chicken totally melted in my mouth and I felt like melting against Bucky's side. I sighed.

"Good?" Bucky asked. I nodded fervently. "Good." His eye-crinkling smile pulled up the corners of his lips. We started to eat in relative silence. Vaguely I wondered if we should have talked about something—like Gran or what we should wear to the Broadway play the next day. But we didn't.

We just ate in silence, occasionally glancing at each other to make sure the other was enjoying.

"Cass?" he finally asked.

"Yeah?" I replied, swallowing my mouthful.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something, obviously thinking about how to say something on his mind. He stared at my eyes for several long moments—

"Can I get you two any dessert?" the waitress interrupted.

Bucky's metal hand disappeared under the table and he turned to look at her. "She's going to have a medium chocolate shake and I'm going to have a medium caramel one," he replied.

"Great! I'll be back with those!" With a bubbly grin the girl trotted off.

"Buck? Cass?" a familiar voice asked. I about jumped out of my skin as a hand rested on my shoulder to get my attention. Bucky was smiling with an expression like, _I should have known_ , as I whirled around to see the newcomer.

"Steve! Don't scare me like that!" I protested.

The captain laughed. "Sorry, Cassie. So you two on a date?"

"If that were any of your business, Rogers—" I started to snap.

"Sure," Bucky cut in, flesh hand landing warningly on my knee. "If you wanna think of it that way." I clamped my jaw shut and just narrowed my eyes at the blond Avenger, ready to decapitate him for calling me "Cassie". "We just ordered dessert though. So what are you doing here?" Steve smiled and perched on the edge of the booth so he was on my other side.

"Just thought I'd come get a cheeseburger on my way back to the Tower. Funny that I'd run into you guys here," he answered.

I scoffed sarcastically. "Oh _please_ ," I retorted. "I _introduced_ you to this place."

Steve and Bucky talked over me for a few minutes before Steve stood up and excused himself. I was just grateful that he didn't bring up any "I ship it" comments. Steve waved to us as he left and disappeared onto the city streets. A few minutes after he left our server came back with our milkshakes.

I gave a spoonful of mine to Bucky and he gave me a spoonful of his so that we could see if we liked the other's before starting in on our own—it was just something my parents had always done and Bucky didn't mind when I suggested it. I pursed my lips. "The caramel isn't bad, but I definitely like the chocolate better," I decided. Bucky laughed and wrapped his arm around me, using his spoon with his free hand.

"I agree—just the other way around," he commented.

Bucky sighed. "I hope Steve doesn't get into trouble on his way back to the Tower."

I shrugged and put another spoonful of shake in my mouth. "He can take care of himself," I remarked around the thick dessert.

"I know. But even after all these years I still feel responsible for him."

I smiled and leaned my head against his shoulder. "I know you do. At the very least if he picks a fight he's far more than likely to win," I offered. Bucky nodded thoughtfully, hand resting on the table. I pulled the spoon out of his shake and held it up near his mouth. He opened it up and let me put it in, closing it up while I pulled it out, getting the thick shake off the plastic. I set it back in the cup.

"Thank you," he said around the caramel.

"You're not allowed to worry about Steve while we're out," I informed him decisively.

"Fine," he retorted playfully.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Tony—so probably intermission at whatever play he'd taken Gran to. _Nuh-uh, Cassandra! You and Barnes are not spoon-feeding each other and totally not dating!_

I rolled my eyes. _Tony,_ I replied, _he was worrying about Steve and I was just distracting him… wait how did you know?_

 _FRIDAY tracked your phones and hacked into the security cameras._

 _I'm rolling my eyes, Tony. Lay off us. We're both adults and we don't need you monitoring us._

 _What if Barnes went full-on Winter Soldier again? Huh? What if he hurt you? What if I wasn't monitoring your whereabouts? You could be lying in an alley bleeding to death for hours before someone found you. I'm not saying I don't trust Barnes, I'm just saying that I'm trying to look out for your safety, kid._ I could almost see the "concerned parent" look on his face.

 _Thanks Tony. But Bucky would never hurt me._

 _Don't be too sure kid._

"He has a point," Bucky muttered quietly, watching my conversation with my boss over my shoulder. "As the Winter Soldier I don't remember who I am—I could very well hurt you." I looked up at him and smiled.

"Yes, but you're not turning into the Winter Soldier any time soon," I retorted.

"Hopefully not." There was a long silence between us broken only by "yummy sounds" while we finished our dessert. Usually we probably would have talked more but for the moment the milkshakes were so delicious that we just focused on them instead of each other—which was fine because we weren't actually dating. We were just friends—and friends were allowed to ignore each other in favor of paying attention to their dessert. At least, one of my best friends from back home would say that. Bucky insisted on paying, settled the check, and then helped me to my feet. "Right. Let's go," he said.

* * *

 **End Note: Thought you guys deserved a quicker update. Thank you all for reviewing still! I'm going to try to be better at responding, so please feel free to keep reviewing! Please! I love it so much!**

 **To my Guest reviewers, Thank you so much! Rosemary, play laser tag! BallroomGlitz, he definitely would slay it!**

 **Thank you all so much!**


	25. 25 Not an Early Bird

When we got back to my apartment, Gramma Howell was still at the play with Tony. Bucky and I showered, changed into our pajamas, brushed our teeth, and then sat in front of the TV and watched the first half of _Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides_ —before Bucky started falling asleep with his arm around my shoulders. "Go to bed, Buck," I murmured. "I'll be in when I finish cleaning up." Not that we made much of a mess—I was just going to power everything down and put everything away.

He got up and pulled me with him. "We can clean up in the morning," he decided, turning off the DVD player and the TV before dragging me into the master bedroom. I snorted but let him tuck me in before getting in himself.

Bucky held me to his chest like a teddy bear and went right to sleep.

It wasn't particularly late and I wasn't particularly tired, so I played a game on my phone until my eyes started to droop—about two hours later.

I was just drifting off when Gran got home. I heard Tony open the door (he didn't have a key but I was positive he knew how to pick locks), talking loudly and laughing at something—probably his own joke—before getting really quiet when he realized the rest of the apartment was dark so we were probably asleep. "Sorry Mrs. Howell! I think I might have woken your granddaughter!" Tony hissed.

"Don't worry," I heard Gran reply. "That girl can sleep through a thunderstorm right over her head. It's that husband of hers you've got to worry about. He's so twitchy that the slightest noise wakes him up. I swear he has super hearing."

"Well that wouldn't surprise me," Tony muttered with a laugh. "I'll let you go, Mrs. Howell. Thank you for joining me at the play."

"Thank you for inviting me. I had a lovely time, Mr. Stark."

The front door to my apartment closed. I heard Gran slide the deadbolt and then retreat into the guest bedroom.

I closed my eyes and rolled over so I was facing Bucky's bare chest. I smiled to myself, closed my eyes, and let myself finally be claimed by sleep. It hadn't even been that long of a day—I was just ready to accept that it was over and I'd had fun.

Though that didn't keep me from grumbling in complaint when I was woken up—very rudely, I might add—by Tony at about seven-thirty the next morning. Day ten of grandma's vacation—so I was already a third of the way through it. I was surviving. In five days I'd be halfway done and then I could go back to my normal life. Not that I didn't love having my grandmother stay with me. I did. I loved her very much and I loved her visiting. It was just my stupid mistake of saying that I was married when I wasn't that was making the month feel like it was dragging out.

"Today's the day! The sun is shining! Broadway is waiting! And you two are going out—!" Tony announced loudly, cutting himself off when he entered the bedroom to see Bucky's arm protectively thrown over me in sleep and me just sort of curled up against him.

His noise jarred Bucky awake. Bright blue eyes snapped open and before I could stop him he'd lurched out of the bed and throttled Tony before he could even process what was happening.

"Whoa! Cool it, RoboCop!" Tony exclaimed sarcastically.

Bucky's back muscles relaxed and he let the billionaire go. "I could have killed you! You should know better than to scare me awake, Stark," Bucky muttered, sitting heavily back on the bed. Tony shrugged and shoved his hands casually in the pockets of his jeans.

"I really should," he deadpanned, attitude dripping with sarcasm. "But I don't." He shrugged.

I rolled my eyes and got out of bed. "What are you doing here, Tony?" I asked.

"Well, just thought I'd pay a visit to my favorite power couple—and bring by the tickets for your date tonight."

"Very generous, but you really don't have to send us to a Broadway show," Bucky put in.

"I know. But I like seeing you two spend time together. You're cute," the genius replied with a cheeky wink thrown in our direction. Bucky glanced at me and rolled his eyes. I smirked and turned back to my boss.

"Well, it's very kind of you," I informed him. "The Broadway part—not the waking-up-a-dangerous-assassin part."

Tony laughed. "I'll leave the tickets on your drain-board, Cass."

"Thanks Tony!" I called as he retreated from the master bedroom, through the kitchen, and out the door. I turned back to the bed and fell on it, face-first. "I'm going back to bed." My grumbled complaint was muffled by the covers. I heard Bucky laugh and his metal hand rested gently on the back of my calf. He gave it a comforting squeeze. "People need to stop waking me up early."

"Seven-thirty is hardly _early_ ," Bucky pointed out.

"I'm a night owl," I retorted.

"The early bird gets the worm," Bucky teased.

I lifted my head from the blankets and turned to look at him. "The early bird can _have_ the worm," I snapped. "Because worms are _gross_ and mornings are _stupid_." Bucky started laughing—almost harder than I'd ever heard him laugh before. "What's so funny?" I mumbled.

"That tone was about ninety-eight-percent of Steve's personality, particularly before he got the serum—not that he changed much after he got it," Bucky replied. "But he was so full of 'fight me' and sass and stubbornness for a ninety-pound asthmatic that I never thought I'd meet anyone else who was quite like him. But here you are."

"Is that a _compliment_ , Sergeant Barnes?" I asked, putting my face back onto the blankets.

"Of course it is! I would never _dream_ of insulting you."

I nodded against the covers. "I'll bear that in mind."

He removed his hand from my leg and I heard him slap his knees. "Well, would you like breakfast or are you going back to sleep?"

I shrugged. "I think my brain's too awake now to go back to sleep. I guess I'll make some breakfast."

"You'll do no such thing! Let me!"

I rolled off the bed as Bucky stood with a little more grace. "No! I'm going to make something. You've made enough breakfast. Give me a turn."

"You hate cooking," Bucky pointed out.

That wasn't a lie. If I didn't absolutely _have_ to eat to survive, I totally wouldn't. Food was one of the biggest wastes of time (except like pizza and milkshakes and ice cream). "True," I admitted. "But breakfast is the one meal that when I'm living alone I tend to forget about, so when I have people over, I have to remember to feed them."

"You forget breakfast?"

"Yeah."

"I could never forget breakfast," Bucky remarked as we left the master bedroom. "I'm always hungry when I wake up." I chuckled and slowed down when I reached the drain-board. The tickets to the show were hidden under a selection of plums. Bucky stopped completely and stared at them before looking over at me. "How would Tony know?" he asked quietly.

"Know what?" I countered, picking up a folded piece of paper behind the fruits with Bucky's name on it.

"Plums are thought to help memory," he explained as I passed him the paper but didn't read it.

"Are you still having memory troubles?" I inquired curiously. He opened the note—eyes flicking over the words I could almost see through the paper. I couldn't make out individual words but I could see it was Tony's handwriting. I'd seen enough of that to recognize it on sight.

He passed the paper to me and looked down at the floor. "I remember everything that happened," he admitted. "Every mission. Every time HYDRA brainwashed me." He paused for a moment as I looked down at the note. _Hey super soldier, thought these might help. Heard rumors you like them. Tony._ I turned my attention back to Bucky. He stared at me very seriously. "I remember the faces of every person whose life I snuffed out—sometimes with my bare hands."

I sighed and leaned against the counter, setting Tony's note down, unable to think of anything to say.

"And since we're on the subject," Bucky continued. "I wanted you to hear that from me—not some file you read some time. Steve, Tony, and you are the only people who definitively know that. When I was on the run I ate plums because they helped me piece everything together." He copied my position against the counter, all thoughts of making breakfast on the back burner. "I was _in_ the Winter Soldier the whole time. Steve says it's not my fault—says I didn't have a choice. But I still did it. Which makes it my fault. That thought is only confirmed by the fact that I remember _everything_."

I rested my head on Bucky's shoulder. "I'm sorry, but I agree with Steve. It's not your fault. You were brainwashed. Even if it was your hands or your trigger, it wasn't your mind. It wasn't your _choice_. And that's what makes the difference."

I kissed his metal shoulder even though I wasn't even sure if he could feel it and turned around and pulled the toaster out of the cabinet.

* * *

 **End Note: Civil War just came out on DVD last week, so I figure now everyone will soon get the chance to see it. So there won't be a _lot_ of spoilers, but there will be references for a while. (The plums were one, if anyone picked up on that!)**

 **Thank you all so much for still reading! You guys are great! Please leave a question or a comment if you have any thoughts! They are much appreciated and loved! I love and appreciate all of you for being here! This is the most popular story I've ever written! I'm floored by your response to it. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart! Bucky and I send our love! ;-)**


	26. 26 Broadway Show

"You look _stunning_ ," Bucky complimented. I smiled embarrassedly and glanced down.

I owned exactly one dress that Tony and Natasha deemed appropriate for a Broadway show—a spaghetti strap blue thing with a shawl to keep my arms warm and my shoulders covered that fell to the floor and was too long so I had to wear heels to keep it from dragging. "Thanks," I muttered, blushing, as I pushed my hairbrush through my mane of hair. I edged past him into the bathroom and put on my fancy makeup. I hated makeup—it was itchy and I was a big fan of rubbing my eyes without turning into the Winter Soldier when he had raccoon eyes.

Not that I'd ever tell Bucky. Not like that at least.

We left my apartment after calling goodbye to Gran and took a cab to the theater. Inside we were seated—in pretty prime seats to be honest—and waited for the show to start. Bucky sat on my right so that strangers wouldn't bump into his arm since that tended to startle or freak out all parties involved, but he took my hand in his metal one. I smiled at him. There was a glove covering his hand so the only evidence that his arm was entirely prosthetic was the small band of chrome that occasionally peeked out from between his glove and the sleeve of his black suit jacket—though that could be mistaken for a watch.

"So what do you know about this play?" he asked curiously.

I shrugged. "Honestly, not much. I've heard it's really good and most people love the music."

"So it's a musical?"

"Yeah."

After reading through the program and quietly talking about our pre-show thoughts, the house lights dimmed. Bucky reached across our bodies and took my other hand in a gesture of "She's mine." Apparently he noticed that the stranger sitting on the other side of me kept looking at me too. The stranger obviously hadn't noticed my wedding ring.

The overture started and a wave of clapping swept over the audience. I smiled. I loved theatre. Especially musicals. The environment was so different from the rest of the outside world.

The first actor slid silently out onto the dark, empty stage. No one was really paying attention except Bucky and I—so when the spotlight suddenly flared on and the first actor belted out the first note, a complete silence fell over the audience. It was full of excitement and anticipation.

Part of me found it really difficult to pay attention to the play while Bucky was holding both of my hands and sort of leaning on me. I could practically hear his heartbeat. I rested my head on his shoulder in order to sort of see through the heads of the crowds because I was so much shorter than the average person. Bucky's head nudged mine playfully. "Having trouble seeing, Cass?" he teased. I narrowed my eyes.

"Shut up," I retorted quietly. Bucky smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and nuzzled the side of my head, giving me a cheeky kiss on my cheekbone.

We didn't say much else—unless one of us had a sarcastic comment about the motivations of the characters—until the intermission. Then Bucky turned to me and held me close so the guy on my other side would stop looking at me. "Enjoying the show?" he asked, keeping his Vibranium arm protectively around my back. I smirked as I noticed his eyes narrow at the guy on my other side.

"I am. The music's good but the characters could do with a little more development," I answered. Bucky chuckled. "So why April second?"

"What?"

"Why April second? We told Gran we got married on April second."

Realization dawned on his face. "Oh! Well, I thought if we said April first she'd catch on that we weren't actually married."

I smiled. "April Fool's Day," I muttered. Bucky nodded.

"Yeah. And I didn't want to be too obvious, but not too unobvious. I didn't want her to think we'd been married for long so she'd believe you when you told her we had to keep it quiet because people were still after me," he explained.

"Clever."

He smirked. "Thanks."

The lights in the house pulsed, signaling the intermission was ending. Bucky traded me seats so he was sitting next to that stranger and I was sitting behind a slightly shorter person—making it easier for me to see. "What about your arm?" I whispered when he insisted. He shrugged and sat down. I eased into my seat, still giving him a concerned look.

"Well, if that guy keeps giving you those eyes, I might need it free to take him out," he breathed in my ear, teasing but also serious.

Music started playing and there was more clapping. Bucky smiled at me and wrapped his flesh arm around my shoulders. I gave him a small grin in return and shifted my attention to the stage. The play was more than halfway over—which was good because my eyelids were feeling the pull of sleep. Why was the performance so late at night? Why couldn't Tony have sent us to a matinee? A few questions leapt through my mind before the action of the musical resumed with an opening musical number.

When it was over and the curtain call was done, we made our way out of the crowded venue and onto the brisk streets. It was slightly chilly for mid-May and when I shivered Bucky wrapped his suit coat around my shoulders.

"So, cab or subway?" Bucky asked. "Because there's no way we're walking home. It's too far and you're too cold."

I shrugged. "You pick. Subway's cheaper but I know you don't like the crowds much."

"Yeah. We're taking a cab."

He signaled one and we got in. I passed him his suit coat back as we entered the warmer atmosphere of the car. Bucky told the driver the apartment building address and the yellow car started off through the streets. For several long moments Bucky sat with his metal arm around my shoulders, looking down at me contemplatively. "Okay. You're thinking about something. What is it?" I asked, turning my face to look up at him.

"Are we going steady now?" he wondered. "I mean, technically can we say we're… _dating_?" I pursed my lips in thought. "Like, when your grandmother leaves and this whole charade is over, can I still introduce you as my gal—I mean, my girl?"

Old-fashioned lingo aside, I bit my lower lip, still looking up at him. "Um… I don't know," I answered honestly. "Maybe we should save that conversation for after Gran goes home."

It could have just been because it was dark, but Bucky looked crestfallen. "Oh… okay."

"I just—" I cut in, trying to cheer him up. "I just think that for now we should keep it as simple as possible. I don't do 'complicated' very well and I don't think either of us need to deal with _that_ on top of everything else going on this month. I'm sorry. I really wouldn't mind talking through it, but I don't think now is the best time."

I barely caught his nod as the cab drove under a streetlight. "I know what you mean," he said. "I understand. And you're probably right. We'll wait to talk about that until later."

The cab pulled up at my building. Bucky ignored my protestations and paid the driver. We both piled out and slid inside. He offered me his arm in the empty elevator and escorted me down the corridor to the apartment. I put the key in the lock and moved to turn it when he tugged me back towards him.

"For the lovely evening," he offered, leaning down and giving me a kiss. It caught me off guard but I kissed him back, sliding my fingers into his overlong hair—messing up the way he'd slightly gelled it back for the evening out. I felt his metal arm between my shoulder blades and his normal hand cupping my jaw. His mouth was soft and his hair tickled where it brushed my cheeks. I smiled slightly against his lips before tilting my head to the side a bit more and shifting up onto my tiptoes—even in my high heels—to kiss him better.

The door to my apartment opened to reveal Gran in her satin pajamas and pink cotton bathrobe, one hand on her hip. Bucky and I broke away and blushed. "Are you two going to stay there all night or are you going to come in before the cocoa I made you gets cold?" she asked sassily.

* * *

 **End Note: Thank you all so much for your continuing response to this story! I'm astounded that so many people love it so much!**

 **Guest Review Responses (that I've unintentionally neglected): To "Bree": Thank you so much! I'm glad you feel like you can relate to Cass! I was just trying my best to make her seem like a "normal human." Know what I mean? And I totally want to be loved in the same way these two "love" each other! It's so cute! To "Guest": This is really worth rereading? Several times? OH MY GOSH! I was thinking maybe once or twice (even though I reread it a lot more than that trying to find errors), but that's amazing! Thank you thank you thank you! To "gandalf537": Thank you! I'm glad it's still cute! I'm trying!**


	27. 27 Fire Escape Chats and Waffles

Bucky stared at Cass as she slept. It was about six in the morning and he'd woken up after a car horn honked loudly outside. Her hair was spread all over the pillow and her black eyelashes traced shady lines on her cheekbones. Her face was soft and peaceful, gentler than she usually was when she was awake. He'd seen her once when Tony had taken the team to a children's hospital—Cass'd had a tender smile on her face as she hugged some of the children with leukemia and other ailments. She'd almost been on the brink of tears.

It was a very similar look to her sleeping state.

Carefully, with his normal hand, he brushed a few stray strands off of her face and tucked them back into the rest of her hair. He smiled at the way her skin twitched when he touched her, but knew she wouldn't wake up. She was a deep sleeper.

His phone vibrated on the bedside table. Without looking he reached back and brought it around. It was a text from Steve. _How was the play?_

 _Nice. The music was lovely._

 _Ok… and how was your date?_

 _As wonderful as ever._

 _Did you ask her about going steady?_

 _Yeah… she said we shouldn't have that conversation until her grandma leaves._

 _Well… hate to say it Buck, but maybe that's for the best._

Bucky sighed. _I know._

Slowly he eased his metal arm out from under Cass and slipped soundlessly out of the bed. He opened the window and crawled onto the fire escape, closing the window behind him as much as he dared. With a few taps, he called Steve's phone. Dawn was just thinking about breaking over the concrete jungle of the city.

"I'm not going to say 'I told you so'," was Steve's greeting.

"But you did. I know," Bucky retorted.

"Look, Cass is _awesome_ ," Steve enthused. "She's the perfect fit for you and you _know_ how much I want you two to be together. And she wouldn't have asked you to be her pretend husband if she didn't have _some_ sort of feelings for you. The girl's a good actress but she's not _that_ good. She can't fake loving someone unless she's somewhat interested. But you'll just have to wait until she's ready." Bucky leaned his head back against the brick wall. Steve was right—but that didn't mean he had to like it.

He rested the bridge of his nose on his forefinger and thumb of his metal hand and sighed. "I gotta go. I think she's waking up," he lied, hanging up. He stared out at the city, going over and over in his mind what he wished he could just get up the courage to say to her.

 _I love you. You're amazing. And beautiful. And smart. And funny. And the only gal that I want. I've been in love with you since the day we met._

But even though he'd stared death in the face during one of the grisliest wars of all time and while he'd been brainwashed into being one of the deadliest assassins of all time, he just didn't have the courage to tell the girl he loved that he was in love with her. He shouldn't have been afraid of her rejection—she was kind and would never deliberately try to hurt him—but he was terrified.

 _Better just enjoy her while you can_ , a savage voice hissed in the back of his mind. _Because she'll never be truly yours._

Bucky felt like punching the wall—but he didn't. Instead he tightened his normal hand around his phone to the point that if he gripped it any tighter it would dent and break. Before he reached that point he set it down on the grate of the fire escape and rested his head in both of his hands.

He'd agreed to be Cass's fake husband so that he could spend some more time with her—get to know her better. He didn't realize that it'd be joy and torture at the same time. Just being with her made him happier than he'd been in a long time, but it also frustrated him that she wasn't his. Maybe the savage whisper in the back of his mind was right. He could never be good enough for her and she would never be his girl because of it. Best to just enjoy being so close to her while he could.

As the sun peeked between the buildings, Bucky slid back into the apartment. He stood at the foot of the bed and stared at Cass with a fond smile on the edges of his lips. Her hair was organized chaos and it glimmered in the tiny light of the dawn that came in through the window. It made Bucky realize that in the right lighting, she had a bit of red in the gold-streaked-brown of her hair.

He grinned.

Barely daring to breathe, he looked around the master bedroom. It was quaint and stylish, but not overdone. And felt more like a home than his ever had. His was more of just a place to sleep. Hers felt like a place where he belonged and was welcomed.

A rare feeling for an assassin.

He eased back onto the bed and held Cass close to him, feeling her cheek against his chest and her hair under his jaw. He twisted some of her hair around his normal fingers the way she'd played with his hair when Clint had come and woken them up the other day. Except hers was much longer and softer and probably thicker as well. He smiled, watching her eyes move restlessly under her closed lids—which still had traces of eyeliner on them where she hadn't quite removed all of it the night before. She sighed against his chest and shuffled a bit, but didn't wake up.

Admittedly Bucky wasn't much of a morning person himself, and this six-AM thing was a little too early for him, but for once he didn't mind. After a moment he let his eyes drift back closed, even though he didn't sleep and only dozed a bit, and didn't open them again until eight-forty-five.

He brushed more of Cass's stray hairs out of her face, smiled at her peaceful expression, and eased off the bed again. He pulled his shirt on and went out to the kitchen to start to make some breakfast. There was nothing like waking up to the smell of delicious food cooking. He smiled as he tried to think of something that Miss Picky Eater would enjoy besides pancakes.

He could just go for pancakes-with-abs and make waffles. She had a waffle-maker that looked poorly disused and lonely.

So he settled on that.

He set about, bustling around the kitchen assembling the ingredients. There was a smile on his face. He knew Cass would be grumpy that he'd made breakfast again and hadn't given her a turn, but he also didn't particularly care. He was awake and he wanted to do something nice.

Bucky was hopelessly head-over-heels for her—and even though he wasn't going to _tell_ her that, he was still trying to give her hints. The problem was she would see it as him just pretending for the sake of Ms. Howell. He scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully as he extracted a box of pancake mix from a cupboard and set it next to his mixing bowl. The back of his mind—where HYDRA and the Winter Soldier generally tended to lurk around—was whispering that love was foolish and weak. He was supposed to be _above_ emotions. And caring for someone meant that there was something that could get to him.

The rest of his mind—which was all definitely Bucky—almost agreed with that savage voice saying that he shouldn't love. But for the reasons HYDRA and the Winter Soldier would have wanted. He didn't want to put Cass in danger. He didn't want people to go after her in an attempt to threaten him—or worse. He loved her so much that he wanted to protect her from all of that. He wanted to protect her from him. He was dangerous and she was pure. She was everything he could never be. He could never be good enough for her. He could never be the good man that she deserved to have—to marry.

His dark thoughts made his metal hand clench tightly around her metal balloon whisk—nearly shattering the handle by the time he caught himself and released his grip. He closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. _Snap out of it,_ he thought harshly.

"Bucky?" a voice piped up tiredly from the doors to the bedrooms.

He whirled to see Cass standing there in her pajamas, hair messy and eyes half-closed. "Hey doll," he greeted quietly.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously, slowly waking up.

 _Thinking about how much I love you but can never be with you because I'm a monster and you're an angel,_ he thought, staring at her wistfully.

"Making breakfast," he answered instead.

"Didn't I tell you to give me a turn?"

"Yeah. But I got woken up by a car horn so I thought I'd do it anyway."

"Oh. What are you making?"

"Pancakes with abs."

"So waffles," she filled in with a grin.

"Exactly," he agreed. "So what do you think we're going to do today?"

"I want to take Gran on the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty."

Bucky smiled. "That sounds like an excellent plan."

* * *

 **End Note: HUGE shoutout to MultiFandomRandomWriter for reviewing almost every chapter at once last week! And HUGE shoutout to everyone ever who has left me a review at all! You're all awesome! You make my day!**

 **To "Rosemary (Guest)": The play they saw is up to the interpretation of the reader! I thought Phantom of the Opera or Wicked, but KiyaNamiel (and others) suggested Hamilton. Who knows? Maybe it was Lion King! To "Envoy (Guest)": Yeah, she's very oblivious. But give her some credit, she thinks everything he's doing is just part of the act. To "Anonymous": Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked it!**

 **Thank you all for reading! Please keep leaving reviews if you'd like! There are over 400 now! HO-LY COW EVERYONE! THANK YOU!**


	28. 28 Apology on Liberty Island

"Wow!" Gran breathed as the Statue of Liberty loomed over our heads. "I haven't _really_ seen her since I married your grampa and we moved out of the city." The spring sun beat down on us as the boat chugged over the water. Bucky was grinning brightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his hand holding mine. The day was warm so we were all in T-shirts and shorts—Bucky even forgoing his usual long-sleeved Henley shirts and letting his metal arm be in full view of everyone. He looked a bit twitchy but he was still smiling in amusement. Under his light blue shirt I could see his back muscles were tense and his eyes were darting over our fellow passengers.

I squeezed his hand as the boat docked on Liberty Island and everyone started to get off. He smiled down at me as I took my grandmother's hand in my free one to help her off the ferry.

"Thank you, butterfly," Gran said. I smiled at her as we walked towards the giant turquoise statue.

"Look! An Avenger!" a little kid exclaimed from behind us. Bucky and I turned, expecting him to be pointing at the red star on Bucky's deltoid that could be seen through his thin sleeve. But the little boy wasn't even looking at us. He was pointing up into the sky, other hand blocking the sun from his eyes. Bucky and I followed his line up sight up into the vast expanse of blue broken by only a few fluffy clouds and the cityscape.

A familiar figure streaked through the sky, headed right for Liberty Island. Bucky smirked but rolled his eyes. "Here comes a headache," he muttered in my ear. I laughed. Gran wasn't paying attention to us at all—she was still admiring Lady Liberty.

Sam landed in front of us, Falcon wings retracting back into his suit. "Morning," he greeted casually as if he'd just knocked on the door. I smiled, trying for friendly.

"Hello," I replied. Bucky just nodded at him.

"Look, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, I just came because I realized that I never properly apologized for the events of Tony's party," he informed us sassily, looking at Bucky more than me. "I had too much to drink and it was uncalled for. Cass, I didn't really mean any of it and I'm sorry."

I stared at Sam, curious and slightly confused. "It's okay," I replied automatically.

"No it's not," Falcon countered. "Friends shouldn't do that."

I shrugged, feeling Bucky's fingers tense around my hand. "Sam, I'll admit that it frightened me because I wasn't expecting it, but I'm not angry at you for what happened. Besides, I had my best guy there to protect me from your drunken amusement." I smiled good-humoredly. Sam's dark eyes flicked from me to Bucky for a moment. In the background I could hear the little boy who noticed him flying whispering excitedly to the adult who was with him. "I mean, yeah you freaked me out because we're good friends and nothing more, but looking back on it, it was actually kinda funny."

"Wasn't in the moment," Bucky muttered darkly.

I rolled my eyes and squeezed his hand. "No it wasn't. But I think it is now. And all's forgiven, Sam. You're still like a funny older brother to me." Sam smiled and gave me a big bear hug, nearly crushing my ribs. "But thanks for the apology. I'm glad to know you didn't mean any of it."

"Why Samuel!" my grandmother exclaimed, finally noticing he was here. "How nice to see you!"

"Hey Gramma Howell," Sam replied casually as if she were his grandmother as well. I loved Sam's attitude. It was always a kick to have him around. "Just thought I'd come say hi and sorry for what happened the other day at the party." Gran started laughing.

"Well, it certainly gave the rest of us quite a show," she remarked.

I glanced over my shoulder at the little boy, who was staring at Sam with his mouth open and a smile. I bit my lower lip and went over to Falcon. "That little guy's been staring at you since he spotted you in the sky," I whispered to him as Gran started going on about something I wasn't listening to. "Maybe you should say hi or something before you take off. Literally."

My friend pursed his lips and smiled.

He excused himself from his conversation with my grandmother and moved to leave. He smiled at the little boy and gave him something like a salute. "Hey little man!" he said. "Keep flyin'!"

The kid nodded, still looking star-struck, as Falcon's wings opened, the jetpack activated, and he took off. I smirked and turned back to Bucky and Gran.

"How did he know where we were?" Bucky asked.

"Don't be paranoid, honey," I soothed comfortingly. "Most cell phones have a GPS in them. Tony probably hacked into mine and told him where I was. It's not like he's never done that before." I shrugged. "Now, shall we finish what we came here for?" Bucky and Gran both nodded. Bucky's grip on my hand tightened and we started to walk around the island. Gran was admiring the statue and I was looking at the city skyline in the distance.

I pretended not to notice, but sometimes I caught Bucky looking at me.

It was kind of cute though, so I didn't protest.

We actually spent most of the day on the island, looking at the statue, going inside, browsing the little gift shop, and having a small picnic for lunch on the grass. It was warm and peaceful and it felt awesome to just be there.

Liberty Island was another place that I had never managed to quite reach since I moved to New York.

I took a deep breath as a breeze fluttered my hair and smiled with my eyes closed.

It was a perfect spring day and the weather couldn't have been better.

"Ready to go?" Bucky asked as the afternoon started to wind down.

I nodded. "Yeah. This has been perfect," I answered.

He smiled. "Indeed it has," he agreed.

"Well then let's get going!" Gramma Howell exclaimed. Bucky and I chuckled as we went back to the dock and got on the ferry. The boat chugged back over the water and took us back to Manhattan while we savored the weather. I didn't generally tend to look up the forecast because I was too lazy and didn't care but I grew up in a state that was pretty cold—even in mid-May—so I always did my best to appreciate good weather when it came around.

When we got back to my apartment, we made a simple dinner—that somehow managed to get flour in Bucky's hair much to my amusement—and then settled down and watched another movie. I liked watching movies with Bucky and Gran. It felt like home. I was safe with people I loved doing something fun.

After showering and putting on my pajamas, I climbed into bed and without even thinking about it nestled right into Bucky's chest. The day had been great and I was ready for sleep. Tomorrow would be another one. And I was ready for it to come.

I didn't really count on the weird dreams I had—mostly involving not being able to run fast enough through Central Park while being chased by Tony on a moped—making my sleep fitful and not as relaxing and restful as I hoped.

I woke up at four in the morning, tucked safely in Bucky's arms under the soft covers. My almost violent jolting awake roused him. "Everything okay?" he asked, much more alert than I was. There was fear and caution in his voice. I nodded and sighed, snuggling closer into his warmth trying to get back to sleep.

"Everything's fine. Just had a weird dream," I muttered. "Go back to bed."

He curled protectively around me. "If you say so, doll," he replied. "I'm right here if you need me."

"You too," I mumbled. I rolled onto my other side so my back was pressed to his chest and I dropped back off to sleep.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, it was darker than I thought it would be. I glanced at my phone, thinking it was really early in the morning—like the sun hadn't come up yet. The time beamed at me: _10:30 AM_.

"What?!" I asked quietly.

* * *

 **End Note: Gee Sam, hasn't that been a long time coming? (Definitely wasn't just me forgetting to add that bit in until it was way late... and never updating in a timely manner... definitely...)**

 **To "BallroomGlitz (Guest)": Don't worry, I got both of your reviews, even the long one! But you know me, "the next twenty days" means, what, two updates? If I'm vigilant? Probably won't happen. Wish it would. But I have a secret... I know which chapter they confess in. ;-) Not telling though. To "Rosemary (Guest)": How's your heart, my friend?**

 **Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a question if something wasn't clear, or a comment if there was something you liked! Love y'all!**


	29. 29 A Day Inside

Bucky shook his head, waking up. "What's goin' on?" he mumbled.

"We overslept!" I answered, still confused.

"But it's dark," he muttered.

"I know." I wiggled out from between his protective arms and jumped to the window. "Huh," I remarked as I pulled the curtains aside and looked out.

"What is it?"

Black storm clouds were brewing over the city, rolling high above the buildings, full of rain just waiting to pour out. "It's gonna rain. Storm must have blown in last night while we were sleeping," I told Bucky. Yesterday's perfect weather was not going to be repeated today.

"So a day inside?"

"Looks like it. Unless you want to get wet."

Bucky chuckled. "That's alright. We could all use a day off." He rolled out of bed while I grabbed my bathrobe off the back of my desk chair to combat the cold and went into the kitchen. Yesterday Bucky had made way too many waffles so I put them in the freezer. All I needed to do was reheat them and we had another day's breakfast. Bucky showered and got dressed—while I reheated his plate—and ran down to the café just across the road to get cocoa for me and Gran and coffee for him. "Sorry, Cass. I know you don't drink or really approve of coffee but I kind of need some today," he apologized as he left.

I shrugged. I didn't particularly care. I just didn't keep any in—because what was the point if I lived alone and didn't drink it? No reason to waste money.

By the time he got back the clouds had finally broken, pouring out their water and releasing lightning. I had a plate for him made up, one for me already cut into, and one for Gran in the microwave for whenever she got up. To be honest I was surprised she wasn't already up—she always seemed to get up really early and then just comfortably wait for me and Bucky to follow suit. I guessed that the lack of sunlight probably threw her off too.

Finally, when it was eleven o'clock and she still hadn't made an appearance, I knocked on the guest room door. "Gran?" I called, turning the knob and peeking in. I smiled.

She was sitting on the bed, facing the window, staring out with the curtains open and the pane slid up. Her eyes were closed and she was grinning. "Good morning butterfly," she greeted. "Just enjoying the smell of the rain."

"Do you want some breakfast?" I asked.

"I made me some at five when I got up," she answered.

I coughed. "Oh. Okay then. Do you want to enjoy the smell of the rain out in the living room?"

"Not yet. It's much more potent in here. And I don't mind giving you two time to be alone."

"Okay. I'll come check on you later, then, I guess…"

"You do that, butterfly."

"Love you," I commented as I pulled the door shut.

"Love you too."

"Everything okay?" Bucky asked, pushing some of his overlong hair out of his face. I nodded and put the plate I made for Gran back in the freezer.

"Yeah. She's just enjoying the smell of the rain," I answered. Bucky stood up from his seat, crossed to the window and opened it up. The wind blew the curtains and the scent of rain into the living room, filling my small apartment with the familiar smell that I loved so much. He took my hand as he went back to the table and pulled me with him, sitting me down. I went back to eating my breakfast and smiled at him. "Lazy days are good."

"Agreed." He smirked and pushed his hair out of his face again.

"Ten minutes with some clippers," I muttered under my breath.

"Not yet, Cass," he replied.

I sighed. "I know. But it wouldn't get in your way as much." He shook his head and went back to his waffles. So I turned to mine and did the same. If he didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to talk about it no matter how much I pushed.

"I know. One day."

"Promise?" I teased.

He licked his lower lip and looked at me for a moment. Finally he nodded. "Yeah. I promise." Then he grinned. "If it were anyone else I wouldn't promise. But it's you. And you're very convincing," he joked. I laughed and shoved a forkful of syrup-drowned waffle into my mouth, leaning my forehead onto his shoulder. He sighed and cradled my face with his metal hand. I wondered if he could feel it. I suspected he had some feeling in his arm because otherwise that would be a lot of reliance on sight.

It was very comfortable to just sit there, completely alone with him for once. None of the Avengers coming to bother us or anyone else giving us the "I ship it" look across the room.

The wind was cold but Bucky was warm and the smell of rain was delightful. I nestled myself closer to his side—nearly falling off my chair in the process—and just watched the curtains flap in the overdramatic breeze. Occasionally the lighting outside would flicker from a bolt of lightning, closely followed by loud rumbles of thunder.

After I cleaned up breakfast I got some clothes on that were comfortable and warmer than my loose, light pajamas. When I went back into the main room Bucky was sitting on the sofa, half wrapped up in a blanket. The other half of the blanket was spread out on the cushion next to him, his metal arm draped over the back of the couch—an obvious invitation for me to go sit with him. He was doing something on his phone with his normal hand and pretended that he didn't notice I was there even though we both knew he was aware that I left the bedroom.

I plopped down next to him. His Vibranium fingers pinched the corner of the blanket and wrapped it down around my outside shoulder as he turned his screen off with his other hand. "Hello gorgeous," he greeted flirtatiously. I grinned and scooted so my side was pressed up against him.

"Looking up rainy day activities?" I asked, nodding down at his phone.

He shook his head. "No. Because I just want to sit here with you."

"And talk about what?"

"We don't have to talk. Sometimes words aren't needed."

I kind of smirked as I rested my head against his metal shoulder. He set his phone on the sofa arm and reached over his body to take my hand.

Before this insane adventure between the two of us, he'd never been much of a talker. He was quiet and reserved around the team—particularly Tony, who I spent most of my time with at work—and didn't like to talk unless he had to. I got the feeling back when I first met him that he didn't really feel like he belonged with them. Of course, I was sure that if I'd ever asked him about that he would deny it, but that was always the sense that I got.

I liked this more talkative side that he displayed since I asked him to be my husband.

Gran only emerged from her room at mealtimes for the rest of the day—probably enjoying being on her own for the lazy day just as much as Bucky and I were enjoying just being with each other. We didn't really do much—just watch the rain and the lightning and smile when we could feel the thunder in our chests.

We tried playing chess with the set I got from Tony for Christmas last year but Bucky was insanely good at it and I was horrendously terrible so the game lasted fifteen minutes before I gave up. Bucky chuckled.

As the day got even darker, I took a quick shower and reemerged into the main room—

Right as the power blew out—a tremendous rumble of thunder quickly following.

Bucky and I rushed to the window and peered out.

Half of midtown Manhattan had gone dark.

I started laughing. "This is going to be good," I muttered. I'd grown up in a boring suburb where a power outage was actually a lot of fun—but in New York every little deviation from the norm seemed to cause a wave of panic because no one knew how to function. It probably wasn't _actually_ like that, but that's just how it seemed to me while I'd been living there.

I smirked to myself, remembering all the times the power had blown out back home—especially the times when my friends had been over. As I watched the rain continue its steady downpour, an idea struck me—a bit like a lightning bolt hit my head.

I glanced over at Bucky. "Are any of those mini marshmallows left?" I asked curiously.

He shrugged. "I think so. Why?"

I smiled. "C'mon!" I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the kitchen.

* * *

 **End Note: Teehee!**

 **To "Drean (Guest)": Thank you! To "Rosemary (Guest)": No problem! Glad to hear your heart is better! To "BallroomGlitz (Guest)": Sorry about the cliffhanger, my friend! Hope this makes up for it! XD**

 **Thanks for reading! Questions? Comments? Please share!**


	30. 30 S'mores

Bucky and I made hot chocolate, lit two little tiny tea light candles on the kitchen counter, got out chocolate chips, Teddy Grams and Nilla Wafers, the mini marshmallows, and those stick things that people could shove into the ends of corn so they wouldn't have to touch it. I closed the window because the apartment already was so saturated by the scent of rain it would linger for a while and I didn't want the wind to blow out the candles and sat across the counter from Bucky.

I speared one of the mini marshmallows on the end of the corn stick and held it over the tea light, close enough to gently warm it but far enough that I wouldn't burn it. I smiled as I stared at it—because if I looked away it would catch on fire and I hated burned marshmallows.

I could sense Bucky watching me and smiling, but I couldn't look up at him until the corners of my marshmallow were a light golden brown.

Once I'd made the perfectly roasted mini marshmallow, I put a chocolate chip on a Teddy Gram, the roasted white puff on top of it, and then another Teddy Gram on top of that. I squeezed the two bear-shaped graham crackers together and popped it into my mouth. Chewing, swallowing, and downing it with some hot chocolate. I sighed with joy and looked over at Bucky.

He was grinning amusedly at me.

"What?" I asked defensively.

He laughed and shook his head. "Nothing," he answered honestly. "You just make happiness out of the littlest of things. It's nice. I miss seeing the good in the world when I was conditioned for so long to see the bad." I grinned at him and nodded at his small pile of ingredients.

He took the hint and started to make a mini s'more of his own.

"Well, I'm glad that I get to make you smile," I commented, picking out another marshmallow. "Because I like your smile. It makes your face light up and the corners of your eyes crinkle."

That made another one emerge from his concentrating expression. His bright blue eyes flicked up to look at me and he chuckled. I smiled back, licked my lower lip, and looked back down at the tiny flame gently drifting back and forth in the small air currents of the kitchen, my fresh, white treat hovering above it suspended on the metal toothpick thing. Bucky sighed—making both of our candles sputter but not blow out. "Cass, I'm going to miss nights like this," he whispered, casting a furtive glance at Gran's closed door. "When this is all over, I mean."

I felt the muscles in my shoulders slouch and I looked up at him. "Me too," I admitted. "I mean, we have fun with the team and all, but this is just kinda… a different type of fun. I guess. I don't know. Friendlier maybe. Closer."

Impulsively, I leaned across the tea lights, resting my free hand on the side of his face, fingers sliding into his hair, and gave him a kiss.

When I pulled away and I gave him an embarrassed grin. "Sorry. But… I guess that's my thank-you for being here with me and having so much fun," I muttered, red and pink coloring my cheeks. He smiled at me, his brilliantly blue eyes glittering in the pale golden light of the small flames on the counter. He licked his lower lip and bit it for a moment.

"Doll, you never have to apologize for kissing me," he informed me decisively.

I actually snorted, making the candles flicker, sending shadows dancing over his skin and metal arm. "Really?" I asked amusedly.

He nodded. "Really," he replied. "But you're the only one." He gave me a wink and popped his lonely marshmallow in his mouth, ignoring the Teddy Grams and chocolate chips for a moment before they quickly followed. He took a sip from his mug while I laughed.

"And why do _I_ get that privilege?" I asked cheekily.

He licked his lips again. "Because you're my wife," he replied with another wink.

I couldn't help but giggle like a schoolgirl. "Okay, Bucky. Okay," I muttered, blushing and shaking my head and looking down at my tea light. His metal hand reached across the table and he placed his bent forefinger under my chin to tilt my head back up to look at him. There was still a cheeky grin playing on the corners of his lips.

"I mean it, Cass. Even after all this is over."

"So on New Year's if I randomly grab your face—?"

"That would be totally fine by me."

We both laughed and looked back to our s'mores. I glanced at my watch since the clock on the oven wasn't displaying anything because the power was still out—it was almost ten. I sighed. For not doing much all day, it had been a good one and I'd enjoyed it immensely.

"What was that sigh for?" Bucky asked curiously.

I shrugged. "It's getting late. And I kind of don't want this day to end," I admitted.

He bit his lower lip thoughtfully. "Well, we'll make a few more s'mores before it has to end," he decided. I nodded with a grin.

"That sounds good."

And that was exactly what we did. Both of us made three or four more s'mores before blowing out the candles, putting everything away, brushing our teeth, and climbing into bed. I left the curtains open and the window to the bedroom slightly cracked so I could hear and smell the rain. Bucky pulled me against his chest and held me close. "You're still my Dream Catcher," he commented. "Obviously you're not one-hundred-percent effective, but I've slept through the night more during this month than I have for the past couple years. Combined."

I grinned and turned so I was facing him. "Well I'm glad I serve some purpose," I joked.

He smirked and rested his forehead against mine. He didn't say anything and his eyelids drooped. I smiled gently as he dropped right into sleep. Usually I could fall asleep just as quick too, but sometimes I was shocked at how easily he drifted off. He was a light sleeper and the slightest twitch could wake him up, but he went to sleep so fast and easy I was almost jealous.

Then I decided I shouldn't be jealous. That ability to pass out probably came at a steep cost. He was probably always exhausted. He got so little sleep from nightmares and everything else that sometimes he probably could barely stand to keep his eyes open.

I rested my fingers on the side of his face for a moment before letting my own eyes close.

The muscles all over my body relaxed. The soothing chorus of the rain and the gentle flapping of the curtains made a lullaby I hadn't heard in a long time.

I pulled a small smile, heaved a cleansing breath, and fell asleep.

* * *

 **End Note: This is probably late. I apologize for nothing!**

 **Shout out to everyone who got the "ten minutes with some clippers" line was from Dean in Supernatural! I didn't think anyone would get it but a bunch of you did! I'm so proud of all of you!**

 **Thank you all for reading! If you've got a question or a comment, please feel free to leave it! I love them!**


	31. 31 The Game Room

Familiar guitar chords woke me up, bright and early, to the sun shining directly on my face. I narrowed my eyes to slits so my retinas wouldn't burn out and sat up, wondering why the bedroom was so much brighter than usual.

Through my small slit of vision I could see that the window was still cracked open and the curtains were gaping wide.

I grunted and rolled over so my back was to the window before scrunching my eyebrows to listen to where the music was coming from and what song it was. I knew I recognized it but I couldn't place it for a moment. My eyes eased open a little bit more in the absence of direct sunlight and I saw Bucky's phone plugged into the speakers on my desk.

The song was One Direction's _What Makes You Beautiful._

I groaned and face-planted my pillow. It's not that I didn't like the song—I did—it's just that it was too early for bright, peppy music. What time even was it anyway?

I managed to lift my head up to look at my watch. Eight thirty. Okay. Not as bad as seven thirty.

Next question of the morning: where was Bucky?

Obviously he was still in the apartment because his phone was sitting right there on my desk and he was a hypervigilant, half-paranoid ex-assassin. He never went anywhere without it—mostly in case he needed to call for help or ask someone in the Tower how to work the ticket kiosk at the cinema.

I rolled out of bed and landed unceremoniously on my hands and knees on the floor before getting up to go searching for him. The song was just barely starting so he couldn't have gone far.

He wasn't in the main room so I knocked on the closed bathroom door. "Buck?" I called through the wood.

"Oh! Cass! Good morning my gorgeous gal! Guess what?" he asked, voice bright with hints of sleepy, opening the door and sticking his head out. He wasn't wearing a shirt but he was wearing jeans. His hair was wet, hanging limply around his face and just past his shoulders, and half of his face was covered in shaving cream. I raised my eyebrows curiously at both his question and his appearance and grunted tiredly instead of verbally responding. "Tony wants to have a team movie night tonight and wants us to spend the day at the Tower. If that's okay with you and your grandmother."

"Well I can certainly ask," I remarked, turning on my heel and moving to leave the bedroom.

Gran, of course, agreed. She liked the team, apparently.

So after I got dressed and ready and we all had breakfast, we brushed our teeth and left for the Avengers Tower.

We rode the elevator to the lounge floor to find Tony and Rhodey playing pool, Steve and Natasha aggressively playing ping pong, and the Vision playing chess with Wanda sitting on the floor. They were all deeply absorbed in their games and didn't notice us for a while. Vision and Wanda were obviously much better at chess than I was.

Gran sat on the sofa far away from Steve and Natasha's insanely fast game as Bucky took my hand and started to tug me towards the air hockey table. "Oh no, no, no!" I protested—making everyone glance at us and realize we were there. "I suck at this game!"

"I don't care. I'll go easy on you," Bucky replied.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine," I muttered.

So he let me go at one end of the table and circled to the other side himself. I grabbed the hand-held paddle thing and pulled the puck out of the slot on my end of the table.

I set it in front of my paddle and gave it a hit straight for Bucky's goal—knowing full well that he would probably block the shot. I mean, come on! I was playing _air hockey_ against a _super soldier ex-assassin_. I had no chance of winning.

So why not have some fun then?

As I guessed, Bucky blocked it and sent the puck right back at me, but he swept it to the side so it came towards my goal at an angle. I managed to get it away from my side, kind of shocked that it hadn't come as fast as I'd assumed. Bucky was a strong guy and could hit _really hard_ (not that I'd ever had to really experience that first hand luckily—the thrashing in his sleep didn't count). So when the puck actually glided over the table at a manageable speed I gave him a glance. He really _was_ going easy on me.

Instantly I decided I wanted to see him and Steve play air hockey.

We kept going, the _clink_ s of the puck hitting the sides of the rink echoing through the lounge as we both bent over the table and lashed out trying to keep the puck away from our goal while getting it into the other's goal. I would squeal and yelp every time I hit it and Bucky would just laugh at me. "C'mon, doll, it's not that scary!" he chastised.

"It is when I'm playing against _you_!" I retorted.

"How's that?"

"Every time I'm just waiting for you to hit it so hard that I won't be able to block it for fear of breaking my hand!"

He laughed even harder. "Love, I promised I would go easy on you. I'm not going to hurt you!"

By the time I decided I was done, the scores were tied at five-to-five. I just stuck my paddle in the middle of my goal and threw my hands up. "Okay! I'm done!" I exclaimed. Bucky laughed, set his paddle on top of the puck to stop its movement, and circled the table to give me a hug and a kiss.

"To be honest, you held out longer than I thought you would," he admitted amusedly.

I pursed my lips. "Thanks."

"I get winners!" Steve called over his shoulder as he whacked the ping pong ball towards Natasha.

"We tied," I retorted.

"Well then do rock-paper-scissors and I'll play whoever wins that!"

Bucky set his fist on his metal palm and winked at me. "I'll do scissors," he whispered.

Vaguely I wondered if Bucky even knew what rock-paper-scissors was. I had no idea when it was invented. But he surprised me. We hit our palms three times. He shot scissors and I shot paper. "Bucky won!" I called to Steve. He whooped and caught the ping pong ball in midair.

"I'll trade ya," he commented, passing me the ball and the paddle for ping pong.

I took them and stepped up to the table opposite Natasha. "I'm afraid I'm not as good of competition as Steve," I apologized.

She shrugged. "It's okay. I could use a break."

I tried to concentrate on ping pong—I really did—but the sounds of the air hockey table were incredibly loud and distracting. Not to mention fast. They were playing almost faster than the puck could slide over the table. I cast a quick glance over at them and ended up getting hit in the neck by Natasha's shot. Bucky was playing with his metal arm, blue eyes narrowed in concentration. Steve was playing with his right hand, a big grin on his face. I blinked, picked up the little white ball from where it had fallen to the floor, and served it back to Natasha.

At some point Sam came in playing Angry Birds on his phone and Tony left the pool table to take Gran on a grand tour of the entire Tower. Rhodey took her place on the sofa and pulled up a video game on the giant flat-screen. It looked like Mario Kart. I'd have to get Bucky to play it. Probably the only thing I'd ever genuinely beat him at. I was pretty good at Mario Kart.

"So, how are things between you and the missus?" I heard Steve asking Bucky as they almost violently played air hockey.

"Fabulous," Bucky replied, hints of sarcasm coloring his nonchalant tone.

"Everything's fine and there have been no arguments, if that's what you're wondering," I called across the lounge. Wanda cast a quick glance up at me from the black-and-white chess board in irritation at being interrupted but didn't say anything. She and Vision were deeply enthralled in their game and it looked like it was going to last several hours at the rate they were studying plays and moving pieces.

"That's _not_ what I was wondering," Steve retorted.

"Oh?" I challenged.

"Yeah."

"Then what were you meaning?"

"Well I can't tell _you_ ," Steve snapped teasingly. "Because if I do you'll attempt to throw me out the window!"

I laughed genuinely, never taking my eyes off the ping pong ball. "And why is that?"

"Could you two stop? I'm trying to concentrate!" Bucky snapped. Steve and I shot quick looks at each other before I bit my lip and shut up. I hit the ping pong ball towards Natasha's side of the table at a horrible angle—sending it bouncing on her side but leaping off the table at the corner before she could hit it back towards me.

"Yes! Point to me!" I said with a grin.

She laughed as she chased after the ball. "Are either of us even keeping track?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not," I admitted.

"Neither am I." We both chuckled and went back to just volleying the thing at each other until Bucky threw his hands in the air in a gesture of giving up. "Hey Soldier, wanna come play ping pong against your wife?" Natasha asked. "I kinda wanna try my hand at the air hockey."

"Sure," Bucky remarked. He crossed over and took Natasha's paddle from her. "Are we keeping score?"

"I'm not," I commented.

He served the ball towards me gently. "I'll go easy on you, doll."

"Thanks."

* * *

 **End Note: In light of the American Election yesterday, I was hoping that this would make some of you (be you American or not) feel better. (I'll delete this bit later because who wants to get political on the internet, but I feel like we can all agree that the election was a complete flop.)**

 **It's funny that on some chapters I get zero guest reviews, and other chapters I get like six!**

 **To "Jo (Guest)": Ch23; Thank you, but what posting schedule? (XD) You're not alone in that you don't want it to end! I've heard several other people say that too! Ch27; Yeah... no she's got no clue. Poor thing. And yeah, poor Bucky! Ch30; Yeah no cliffhangers - which is probably good given I haven't updated in ages. To "Donna (Guest)": Thank you! I'm glad it's cute! To "Maddy (Guest)": Yes my friend there is plenty more! Do not worry! I'm floored that you'd read all of this in one day but I'm also honored! Thank you!**

 **Thanks all for reading, as always! I hope your day is somewhat improved! Leave a review if you've got a question or comment! They're all welcomed!**


	32. 32 Tower Sleepover

Bucky and I were sitting on the floor in front of the sofa in the darkened lounge. The sun had gone down and the rest of the team was on the sofas as Tony put in the movie selection for the night— _Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End_. I was one of those people that preferred the floor to a chair any day so Steve had given me one of the throw pillows to sit on and I sat on the floor. Bucky had decided to join me rather than sitting next to Sam. Steve and Natasha were sitting on the sofa behind us, whispering quietly about something I couldn't quite hear, and Gran was in her own armchair off to the side.

I was leaned against Bucky's side and his head was resting on top of mine. We were sharing a gigantic bowl of popcorn with our drinks sitting off to the side.

Most of the movie passed uneventfully, but with lots of laughter. _Pirates_ was a great go-to movie series for team movie nights when no one would agree on anything. My constant campaign to watch _The Princess Bride_ was continually ignored but I couldn't complain. I wasn't _really_ part of the team. I was the assistant.

During the climax though, when it was raining and Elizabeth and Will were getting married, I had to roll my eyes. Steve was stage-whispering to Natasha, "When your favorite characters won't admit their feelings for each other even though it's so obvious!" right as Captain Barbosa shouted "JUST KISS!" on the TV screen.

"It's even funnier because he's on a ship," Natasha replied.

I knew they were directly talking to me and Bucky, but Bucky wasn't paying attention to them. Sometimes he did this thing where he got absorbed into whatever we were watching and completely blanked the rest of the world.

But he was paying attention to the movie, so he glanced at me, grinned, and whispered, "May I?"

I smirked and gave him a nod.

Right as the TV couple kissed, he leaned down and gave me one.

Thankfully for us we weren't in a melee like the characters were so we didn't have to worry about getting stabbed in the back while we weren't paying attention.

I heard a couple whistles and cheers from the other teammates—the loudest being Steve, Natasha, Sam, Tony, and Gran—and pulled away. I was grateful for the darkness. It hid my blush as I looked back to the TV.

"Are we going to stay the night here?" Bucky whispered after a while.

"Probably. It's getting late and I don't like the big city after dark."

"Neither do I."

"Yeah then let's just plan on staying."

"Are you going to wear Natasha's red nightgown again? Because you look stunning in it," he teased.

I whacked him lightly in the chest with the back of my hand. "No," I retorted. "I hated that thing. Not my style. When I came here the other day to help Tony with the pro-vaccination campaign I brought an extra pair of my pajamas, and some of yours in case this happened again." Bucky gave me an impressed look and I smiled.

When the movie was over and the mess of refreshments cleaned up, everyone turned in for the night. Bucky and I went to his old floor and just went to bed, not even talking or anything. Someone had escorted Gran to my old floor because FRIDAY told me that was where she was.

I curled up under the soft, light covers and went to bed, not even noticing when Bucky pulled me closer to him.

Apparently we both slept straight through the night because I woke up to FRIDAY ringing an alarm in the bedroom at about eight-thirty in the morning. The alarm was Tony shouting, "Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!" in his most annoying voice. I groaned with complaint and planted my forehead firmly against Bucky's chest. I felt him chuckle more than I heard it and his arms tightened around me.

"Snooze!" he called tiredly. The alarm stopped. "Tired, love?"

I grunted. "Not really. I just don't know if I like Tony's voice being the first thing I hear in the morning," I replied. Bucky chuckled and kissed the top of my head. "So, should we go to the café down the road for breakfast and then head to Central Park?"

"That could be fun," Bucky agreed. "We haven't done that yet have we?"

"Don't think so," I answered groggily.

"We should get a caricature done—you know, those funny drawings that accent your prominent features?"

"I know what a caricature is," I snapped tiredly. "That would be funny."

"Hey, kids!" Tony's voice crackled from the intercom. "While you're talking about Central Park, tonight there's going to be a band playing classic swing music—open to any and all who want to go swing dancing. Just in case you're interested." I rolled my eyes that he was eavesdropping, but gave Bucky a curious glance.

"We could do that," I remarked.

"A little date?"

"Something like that. I miss swing dancing."

"Then let's do that tonight. We'll spend the day in the park, and go swing dancing in the evening," Bucky decided.

"Sounds like a plan."

"Then is it time for breakfast?"

I sighed and tried to sit up—but made no movement because Bucky was holding me down too tightly. "I guess so. If you'd let me get up," I replied as FRIDAY reactivated the alarm and Tony's voice started shouting _Beep_ over and over again. "Okay! Turn it off! We're awake!"

Silence.

Bucky let me go and I rolled out of bed. Time to get ready, I guessed.

So we changed back into our clothes and went to the café just down the road with Gran and Steve for breakfast. The captain had decided to join us because he was bored and liked talking to my grandmother about times long past while Bucky and I did the responsible stuff. We sat at one of the outdoor tables and munched on muffins while business people bustled about on the sidewalk and the roads.

"I did decide that I'd never met an Eleanor Wilson right?" Bucky asked quietly as Steve and Gramma Howell talked about the Beatles.

"No. We never resolved that," I replied.

"Oh. Well, I still think I went on a couple dates with an Eleanor but I don't think her last name was Wilson."

"I'm not gonna lie, that's strangely comforting," I remarked.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. It would be weird if I'd dated your grandmother, wouldn't it?"

"Very," I agreed with a decisive nod. "Wanna try my lemonade?" I offered Bucky the large glass of strawberry lemonade next to my muffin, habits of growing up still not dying. He nodded and took a careful sip—his eyebrows lifting. "Good, huh?"

"Yeah. It's really good. I'd offer you a taste of my coffee but _you don't drink it,_ " he finished teasingly, nuzzling his face into my neck, making me giggle and swat at him because it tickled. Steve and Gran finally disengaged from their conversation long enough to look at us with bright smiles on their faces that I pretended not to notice as I pushed Bucky off of me and took a bite of my muffin. He laughed and gave me a hug. "You're such a good sport, to put up with me all the time."

I rolled my eyes and hugged him back. "Well that's one of the reasons I married you," I retorted.

Steve was practically shape-shifting into the heart-eyed-emoji right in front of us. So I pushed Bucky off again, broke a bit of his muffin off from the rest, and shoved it in his mouth. He laughed around the mouthful and looked over at his blond best friend with a sarcastic look. Steve and Gramma Howell both chuckled amusedly.

Once we were all done we went to Central Park. The weather was amazing, with no trace of the storm of the day before yesterday. The sun was shining and leaving golden patches on the ground through the thick leaves that danced and shifted in the late spring breeze.

It felt like summer had already arrived.

I sighed as the four of us leisurely strolled, Bucky and I hand-in-hand, down one of the many paths that wound through the one patch of wild left in the concrete jungle of the city.

It felt like I was walking through some sort of paradise in the moment. Nothing was going wrong, and I had no reason to believe it would. I counted myself lucky usually that I wasn't actually one of the team so I was never paranoid that someone would come attack me at the most random of moments. The warmth and the breeze and the serenity made me smile. Bucky glanced down at me. "What's that look for, doll?" he asked curiously.

"Today just feels good," I answered.

He chuckled and squeezed my hand, giving me a playful nudge with his shoulder. "I'm glad."

"Me too."

"Hey, you two lovebirds!" Gran called from where she was several yards ahead with Steve. "I'm sure the _captain_ here doesn't mind third-wheeling, but I wouldn't mind actually talking to you two as well!" I blushed guiltily as we picked up our pace to catch up.

"Sorry, Gramma Howell," I muttered when we reached them. "I just love this weather."

"And present company," Steve put in, nodding at Bucky.

I nodded. "Right."

* * *

 **End Note: Yesterday was my birthday, so that's why I didn't update yesterday even though I wanted to.**

 **To "Guest": Glad you agree! XD**

 **Thanks for reading, all! Questions and comments alike are all welcomed! (Lemme know if I misspelled something or left a word out - I do that a lot!)**


	33. 33 Caricatures and Swing Dancing

Bucky and I sat on a bench across from one of the caricature artists, smiling and laughing while he drew us. Gran was getting one done a bench down but Steve was just standing behind the artists, curiously watching. I'd seen his drawings before—he was a gifted artist—and he was probably trying to figure out how they did what they did.

The final product was well-done and hilarious. Our smiles were exaggerated, as were my eyes (lashes, brows and all) and Bucky's jawline. The bodies were tiny in comparison, drawn in a cartoony dress and suit and appeared to be dancing.

We paid the artist and laughed. Steve elected himself to be the holder of the drawings for the rest of the day so we wouldn't worry about it. Plus he probably wanted to study them.

We got lunch from a vendor and had another picnic on the grass like the one we'd taken to Liberty Island. I leaned against Bucky's chest while we ate sandwiches, very conscious of Gran's constant supervision. I hadn't really _had_ to think about selling the show that Bucky and I were actually married as the two of us just kinda grew closer and got used to the constant need for physical contact to the point where it had become more the norm than his usual cold distance from everyone.

After sandwiches we got ice cream and ate it on a bench next to a pond. I'd been to Central Park before, but I could never remember the names of anywhere and I didn't know where anything was because I didn't go often enough to bother.

Which was fine with me because that meant that it was like going somewhere new every time.

I offered some of my chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream to Bucky and he let me try his mint chocolate chip. I didn't like mint ice cream. It tasted like toothpaste. But I tried it anyway before going back to my own cup.

"Why are you two sharing?" Steve asked curiously but quietly while Gran was looking at ducks floating on the pond. He sounded a bit teasing and I narrowed my eyes threateningly for a moment before deciding it wasn't worth it to get riled up. I was going to enjoy this day and I wasn't going to let the captain's constant teasing about my relationship with his best friend ruin it.

"Habit," I replied. "My parents always used to give each other the first bite of their dessert and it kinda rubbed off on me."

"Well I think it's adorable."

"Shut up Rogers or I'll push you into the pond," I muttered.

"I don't doubt that," Bucky commented with a grin.

The afternoon wore on pleasantly. We explored the park and occasionally made sarcastic comments regarding people around us—including commentary of the inner monologues of joggers who couldn't hear us because they were listening to music.

Throughout the day we passed the spot where workers were setting up a temporary dancefloor and the band shell that would improve the acoustics for the musicians. "What's going on there, I wonder?" Steve asked the first time we saw men carrying panels of wood and piecing them together like a gigantic puzzle.

"Swing dance thing tonight," Bucky replied. "Tony told us about it this morning."

"And I assume you're going to be attending?"

"You assume correct."

"Well then, I think when the time comes I'll take Mrs. Howell home and leave you two here—unless she wants to watch. How does that sound?"

"Great, if you wouldn't mind."

"Then it's a plan."

As the sky grew darker and the sun started throwing orange and red streaks over the clouds and the trees, musicians arrived in the shell and began to set up their instruments and warm up. It would be a while before they were properly ready though so we went to a restaurant just outside the park for a relatively small dinner—because eating and then dancing for me would cause trouble. From there Steve took Gran home and Bucky and I went back to the park. There weren't a lot of people there but it was still early.

There were some formalities like introducing the conductor and the band and whatever before the music started in earnest.

Bucky closed his eyes and smiled as the big band, brass-heavy music started. It was a tune I wasn't familiar with, but what did it matter? It was classic swing dance music like the kind I'd heard growing up when my parents danced barefoot in the kitchen.

He offered me his elbow. "Do you trust me, doll?" he asked, almost cheekily.

I bit my lower lip with a grin and nodded. "Yup."

"Then may I have this dance?"

"You may, Sergeant."

He grinned wistfully and swept me onto the dance floor. He held my hands tightly and smiled. For a moment I wondered what he was thinking. Steve had told me the story of the night Bucky left for war—the "double date" that turned into the night Steve got accepted into the SSR. He told me that Bucky had taken the girls dancing. I wondered if he was thinking about that.

It would certainly explain the nostalgic look on his face.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked curiously as he started to lead our dance.

"The first time that we danced together," he answered.

I nodded. "I thought you'd be thinking about the last time you danced in the forties."

He shrugged and spun me under his arm. "Well, the thought did cross my mind when I heard the music, but I like dancing with you so much more than I liked dancing with them. And I like thinking about dancing with you more than I like thinking about dancing with them."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I remarked as I bent backwards over his knee, hair falling to the makeshift dancefloor.

"You should. Because it is."

"So I take it you always liked dancing."

"I did. It was how to socialize and get to know women. It's a dying art-form among modern men who no longer see it as manly to know how to dance. It makes me wonder why though. Why wouldn't they want to spend hours holding beautiful girls' hands and seeing their beautiful smiles?" he asked rhetorically. I smiled. "One of the things that makes me the saddest about this century is that social dancing was so phased out of society."

"To be honest, that's one of the things that makes me the saddest too."

Bucky laughed and then sighed. "Cass, sweetheart, you were born in the wrong decade."

I smiled. "I've been told that before. Many times."

"Well, my dear, in the words of Jack Sparrow: 'if enough people keep saying it, it must be true'," Bucky teased as he spun me into Cuddle and then flung me outward, putting his hand behind his back for Octopus. I laughed in agreement.

We danced for a solid fifteen minutes before I needed a break. We retreated to the side of the dancefloor and sat on the cool grass for a while. An elderly couple were sitting on a blanket nearby, watching the small group of other partners nostalgically. "Remember when that used to be us?" the woman asked her husband.

"Yes. Those were good times."

I grinned to myself and leaned my head against Bucky's shoulder, shivering as a breeze blew over my sweaty skin. He wrapped his arm around me and held me close.

"I've missed dancing," Bucky commented as I slowly got my breath back. "Thank you for agreeing to join me tonight and do this." I smiled and took his hand that was around my shoulders—his flesh one.

"I missed dancing too. It's my pleasure."

Bucky grinned and gave me a kiss on the temple—making my skin heat up with a blush he hopefully couldn't see in the semi-darkness that the dancefloor's lights didn't quite penetrate.

"Excuse me?" a voice asked, approaching us. "You have a very gifted partner. I was wondering if I could borrow her for a song." We looked up to see a young man around my age standing near the edge of the dancefloor, looking a bit shy and awkward. Bucky gave me an overprotective glance and at first I expecting him to refuse so I squeezed his hand and gave him a tiny encouraging smile.

"You may," Bucky relented. As I moved to get up, he hissed in my ear, "Don't think I'm taking my eyes off of you for a _second_."

"I would despair if you did," I retorted teasingly. "But don't worry. I'll be fine."

The young man wasn't as smooth as Bucky at dancing so I slipped a few times, but he seemed to know what he was doing and he appeared to be trying very hard to get it right. I would give him encouraging smiles when we were facing each other and compliment him when he nailed something.

Bucky swooped in when the song was over and took me back.

"Thank you, miss. You're a very talented dancer," the young man said as Bucky moved to take my hands for the next song.

"You're welcome! You're not so bad yourself!" I replied as I spun into Bucky's chest and gave him a smile. "That went well." He seethed a bit. "Oh relax. I was never in any real danger!" I remarked as he did Gravedigger with me, lifting me and setting me down with strength but tenderness. He was smoother than the strange young man and gentler.

"I don't trust men asking my girl to dance," Bucky muttered, almost darkly.

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not really your girl then, isn't it?" I joked. I thought I saw him wince but I was spinning under his arm and was probably mistaken.

Smoothly, he retorted, "Well, sweetheart, _tonight_ you're my girl."

I smirked. "Fair enough."

We danced—and took a few breaks—until midnight, when the last song played. I ended bent backwards on Bucky's knee with his eyes shining down at me and a smile on his face crinkling the corners of his eyes. He leaned down and gave me a kiss as the rest of the couples clapped and whistled for the band. When he popped me back upright we joined in politely. I was exhausted and ready to pass out by the time we left the park.

* * *

 **End Note: O-KAY! So, this would have been up a couple days ago, but... *clears throat* *Ahem* I was, uh... busy... totally not bingewatchingTheLizzieBennetDiaries... totally not.**

 **To "Jo (Guest)": Thanks! Glad it was good! To "Mimmi (Guest)": Great to hear you're excited! To "Awesome (Guest)": No problem for the update! To "BallroomGlitz (Guest)": Don't worry! All of your reviews came through! They just have to be moderated first and I'm lazy so I forget to do that. They automatically moderate after like five days. For the sake of everyone reading, YES I do plan on that. To "Rosemary (Guest)": I don't care how late you review, just that you do! And yes, you have told me how much you love that I made Steve kind of a stinker. But HE IS A STINKER. I stand firmly by that. To "Guest": RIGHT?! 500 REVIEWS IS INSANE! I'M SO PSYCHED ABOUT IT! EVERYONE IS AWESOME!**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR THE BIRTHDAY WISHES LAST TIME! Thanks for reading as always! Questions, comments, casual spelling corrections, all are welcomed!**


	34. 34 Worst Nightmare Yet

_Wham!_ Bucky's flesh arm hit me—hard—in the chest, at about three in the morning. He cried out in his sleep and thrashed, successfully waking _me_ up but not him. I grabbed his shoulders and tried to pin him down. "Bucky! Bucky! Wake up!" I hissed, trying to make sure he wouldn't wake Gramma Howell on the other side of the wall. "Bucky!"

He gasped and his eyes flew open, sitting up so fast he almost bashed foreheads with me. I held him tightly around his shoulders and held his head against my chest. He was panting and sweaty, his cool metal arm pressed against my torso.

"Shh. Shh. Shh," I soothed gently, cradling the side of his head and rubbing his back. "It's okay. I'm here. It was just a dream. You're alright. Nothing's going to hurt you here." I rested my chin on the top of his head and gave him a kiss. "I've got you. You're okay. I'm here."

He was shaking and trembling fiercely. "D-d-did I hurt you?" he asked, stuttering a bit.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "You gave me a good whack in the chest but otherwise I'm fine."

"Oh, Cass, I'm so sorry!" he murmured desolately.

I stroked his hair. "It's fine. It didn't hurt. Scared the living daylights outta me but it didn't hurt," I lied. I could feel it throbbing—it'd probably form a bruise later.

"No I… I never wanted to hurt you. I knew this would happen! I—"

"Bucky! It's okay. It was just a nightmare. You're safe right here. I've got you. Safe and sound." I rubbed his bare back, up and down his spine, and started to trace patterns over his tense shoulders. "Do you want to tell me about it? If not that's okay. But do you?" I asked softly, twisting some of his hair around my fingers as the trembling and shaking decreased and his breathing slowed. He shook his head against my chest. "That's okay too. Just know that you can talk to me if you need to." I kissed the top of his head again and traced circles between his shoulder blades. "Relax, Buck. Relax," I whispered.

He took a shuddering breath and sighed heavily. "I'm so sorry, Cass. I'm so sorry! I knew this would happen and I got in bed anyway," he muttered. His flesh arm reached up and draped over my shoulder, holding onto my back like I was his anchor in reality—and maybe at the moment I was. "I'm so sorry!" I shushed him again and toyed with his hair.

"It's okay. It was just a bad dream. But that's all it was—a dream."

"I knew this was gonna happen!" he lamented, half angry and half devastated. "We got home from the park and I got this dark foreboding feeling like I knew I was gonna have a nightmare. And then I hurt you!" I rubbed his back again.

"Hey, it's okay. It didn't hurt, remember? We're both fine. It was just a bad dream. I've got you. You're okay. I'm safe. You're safe. We're safe. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you," I whispered.

"Shouldn't I be telling you that?" he muttered, half-jokingly.

I smiled. "I'm not the one plagued by nightmares," I countered.

"Fair enough," he commented. He sighed and most of the tension between his flesh shoulder and the seam where metal met skin eased out as his back muscles finally relaxed. "It was a dream… about you. And Steve." He lifted his head from my chest and looked me in the eyes. "Someone got control of me—of my mind. You and Steve were tied up on chairs—and Sam was unconscious on the floor, probably bleeding out. I had a gun in my good hand and a knife in my prosthetic one. I heard the voice of whoever took over my mind order me to terminate." He took a shuddering breath and let out a solitary sob. "I killed both of you without hesitating," he finished.

I shook my head and put my hands on either side of his face. "Well lucky us your abilities don't include precognition," I remarked with an attempt at a lighthearted grin. His eyebrows twitched downward, like he didn't know what the word meant. "You don't dream about the future." He nodded in understanding. "That was just a nightmare about what you're afraid of. But you don't have to be afraid. That's never going to happen." _Probably,_ I added silently. _Hopefully_.

He sighed. "I watched the light leave your eyes. And Steve's. I never want to see that in real life—especially not by my hand."

"You won't, Bucky. I promise." I kissed his forehead. "Think you can go back to sleep?"

He glanced down at the pillows and held me in a crushing embrace to his bare, sweaty chest. It was a little slick but I didn't mind. "I can try," he relented. I smiled as he leaned back down, pulling me with him. "As long as I know you're alive, I think I'll be okay."

He pressed his forehead against mine, gave me a desperate kiss, and then sighed.

"I won't lose you," he breathed, probably not even intending for me to hear—but I did.

Bucky dropped back off before I could reply.

I caressed the side of his face softly for a moment with the backs of my fingers trailing down his jawline soothingly. The poor man had seen and done so much against his own will—and yet he did it anyway. It was like he had a nightmare about killing someone and then woke up and realized he'd actually done it in his sleep.

No wonder he was so terrified.

I stared at him wistfully, the spot where his fist hit the right side of my chest just below my collarbone throbbing dully. I winced as his metal arm tightened around my back and one of the plates shifted, pinching my skin through my T-shirt. I squirmed just enough to release it and then relaxed.

"Oh, Bucky, you'll be healed one day," I whispered as his eyes started to flick under closed lids.

At least, I hoped he would.

I sighed and went back to sleep, exhausted from the dancing and the day, the dull pulsing of my chest lulling me back to my dreams—which were nowhere near as terrifying as Bucky's.

* * *

 **End Note: So this one is a _little_ shorter than usual, but I apologize for nothing. That's not true. I apologize for how long it took me to put this up. In my defense, I was _swamped_ because of finals week. I'm sorry for that.**

 **To "BallroomGlitz (Guest)": Don't worry, your reviews don't show up at first because they have to be moderated by me since they're guest reviews. I do see them and they always come through! And yes, it _is_ going to be good. I'm just as excited as the rest of you! And thank you so much! I never considered this a masterpiece! I consider this a one-shot that got WAY out of hand! XD To "Maddy (Guest)": Welcome back! I'm happy you're here! To "Guest": Well... you might? I'm not omnipotent, so I can't say for sure... XD To "Drean (Guest)": Thank you!**

 **Thanks for reading guys! Leave any questions or comments you may have!**


	35. 35 Emotional Distance

"So… you seem rather… _distant_ today," I commented carefully as Bucky and I ate lunch. Gran was taking the day off from sightseeing because the past few days had wiped her out so she was in the spare room relaxing—with the door open so she could hear everything. My eyes flicked up from my sandwich to look at his. He sighed and glanced up at me.

"I can't get that image out of my head," he admitted quietly. "You and Steve dead. Sam out cold and probably dying. I stabbed you in the heart and shot Steve in the forehead."

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked, wishing I could be more helpful.

He shook his head. "No. You've done plenty enough already," he answered.

"Bucky," I whispered, reaching across the table to take his hand—his normal one. He almost twitched out of the way before letting me hold it. "I know it must suck. And I know that I don't understand all you've been through. But I want to help however I can."

"You don't have to. It's not your burden to shoulder."

"But you don't have to bear the weight alone!"

"Yes I do. Everything was my fault. I did horrible things. Doesn't matter that I wasn't in control of my mind. I still did them. The blame is on no one else but me."

"Bucky, you're my _husband_ ," I pressed. _At least for now,_ I added silently with a facial expression of lifting my eyebrows and glancing upwards with a purse of my lips. "We vowed to be there for each other for better or for worse, did we not? _Please_ don't shut me out. It kills me to see you looking so… despairing! Hurt. Lost. Scared. Whatever. I hate seeing you like this!"

"I know, sweetheart. I just don't want to talk about it."

"I get that. But I don't want you to suffer alone!"

He gave me a thoughtful look. "I'm not alone. The suffering is mine to bear but just being around you makes it easier to endure. And for now that'll have to do. Because as much as I want to tell you everything, I'm afraid if I start, the horrors of my past will never stop. And won't stay in the past."

I nodded and gave his hand a comforting squeeze. "One day, then. Maybe."

He gave me a single nod. "Maybe," he promised.

I noticed his distance the whole day—he hadn't even been this reserved since I first asked him to pretend to be my husband. Maybe he had when I first met him, but that was to be expected way back then when he'd barely recovered. Or so I'd been told. For a moment I almost couldn't remember the silent, reserved man Steve had introduced me to in that small café in Brooklyn. He hadn't necessarily _changed_ since then, but he'd opened up to me more and let me be closer to him—to the point that he trusted me touching him. I wasn't stupid. I knew that wasn't a privilege he granted to everybody. I'd seen him flinch away from other people—even the team.

He still let me play games with him throughout the afternoon. I was trying to distract him. But occasionally he looked up and got a sorrowful expression on his face before turning back to the checkers board or the cards. I could play checkers a bit better than chess but not by much. I totally beat him at Uno too, but he beat me at pretty much everything else. The look in his eyes whenever he searchingly stared at my face indicated that he kept seeing me lifeless in his mind's eye.

I was leaning over to move my SORRY! Game piece when his eyebrows furrowed. "What's this?" he inquired curiously, tugging the collar of my T-shirt down to reveal a bit more of my chest.

And the bruise that his solid hit had developed.

I shrugged. "Just a bruise. Nothing major. I've had worse," I replied nonchalantly.

He took a deep breath and leaned back. "That's where I hit you in my sleep isn't it?" he asked—but he sounded like he already knew the answer.

I sighed. "Yeah," I admitted. "But it's fine. It doesn't even hurt—unless you push it."

Bucky set his forehead in his hand and heaved a huge cleansing breath. "I can't believe I did this," he muttered. "I can't believe I hurt you. I'm so sorry. I'm still a monster and I can't even protect the ones I care about the most."

"Hey," I interrupted. "It's fine. I'm fine."

I wondered if it was a good thing or a bad thing that he dropped the subject completely and refused to say another word about it. I wondered if I even wanted to know. He picked up a card and moved his game piece accordingly, still looking thoughtful and pensive but wouldn't answer me directly when I asked what he was thinking about.

"Hey, remember that one move we did last night that almost clocked that other couple in the head?" I asked.

He buried his face in his hands. "Oh man. Yeah. I feel so bad about that," he muttered.

"It reminded me of this one time when I was in high school, I was in the swing club. I had this one partner—good friend of mine—and he spun me too fast and I couldn't get my arm to go straight in time. I hit him square in the jaw with my elbow. The kicker was he had braces at the time. I hit him so hard that it cut his lip on his braces. Made his mouth bleed. I felt horrible. Went and got him ice cream afterwards. He laughed and brushed it off but even though I can laugh about it now, I still feel guilty when I think back on it," I told him. He chuckled.

"What was his name?"

"My partner?"

"Yeah."

I blushed. "No joke: we called him Tony."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It was always kinda funny. When he had his braces he was nicknamed Iron Man or Iron Face—depending on who was talking to him. We gave him a lot of teasing about it even though there's no connection between him and Stark at all apart from the same name."

"You should tell stories about your high school life more often," Bucky commented teasingly.

Success! I'd distracted him. It took all my self-control not to do a victorious fist pump.

"I probably really shouldn't. I was the opposite of a troublemaker but when things happened to me, they were always so dramatic—like the universe was making up for my lack of quantity by giving the shenanigans quality," I said sarcastically. Bucky chuckled as I heaved myself to my feet and went to the kitchen. "Hungry? Should I make some dinner?"

"A bit."

"Hey Gran! We're gonna have dinner!" I called.

"Okay, butterfly!" she replied, emerging from the spare room as I started to pull some things out. Bucky stood up and crossed to the kitchen. Gently he put his hands on my hips and pulled me away from the cupboards.

"All due respect, doll, but you hate cooking," he said softly. "Let me make something."

"Oi!" I protested. "I can make dinner!"

"No it's okay. Spend some time talking to your grandmother. I'll cook dinner."

"Let him be, butterfly," Gramma Howell murmured quietly. "You can let him cook every once in a while."

"I know. But he _always_ makes breakfast nowadays. I feel useless!"

"Don't. It just means he loves you." Gran pulled me back over to the sofa and sat me down. "Now, tell me your side of the story about when you entered the elevator covered in that bluish goo. What happened beforehand?"

I rubbed my forehead as Bucky bustled about the kitchen. "Oh," I muttered. "It was Mr. Stark's idea for an adhesive that wasn't just glue. He thought mixing the chemicals in an open-topped beaker wasn't going to be a problem. And then when he heated it up too much, it exploded all over us—but mostly me because I was closer. I wasn't even supposed to be _in_ the lab! I was supposed to be helping Vision and Wanda sort through some files from the SHIELD dump."

* * *

 **End Note: This is late. I wanted to post it around Christmas Eve... but I forgot. And I was busy. Which is fine because I assume you were all busy too. Even if you don't celebrate Christmas.**

 **To "Unicorn Brownies (Guest)": Yes! You caught up! Welcome to the present!**

 **Thanks for reading! Happy New Year if I don't update before then!**


	36. 36 A Foreboding Feeling

**Author's Note: Something to bear in mind: I love you guys. Don't hate me. To "Rosemary (Guest)": Thank you! To "Unicorn brownies (Guest)": Thank you as well!**

 **Thanks for reading guys! Keep those comments/questions/reviews coming! I love them!**

* * *

When I walked into the master bedroom after dinner, I saw Bucky packing his pajamas and a change of clothes into his backpack. "Whatcha doin'?" I asked curiously, trying to keep "defensive" out of my voice.

"I'm going to stay the night at Steve's," he replied shortly.

"Why, is he okay?" If something had happened to Steve, wouldn't Bucky have told me about it?

"He's fine. It's not him. It's me."

I was confused. "What?"

Bucky shook his head. "I _hurt_ you, last night, Cassie. I'm not going to risk that again."

"It didn't hurt," I lied. My chest was still throbbing from where he'd whacked me with his flesh arm after he thrashed in his sleep because of that nightmare. "Don't feel bad about it. Just talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking I feel the same sense of foreboding I did last night and I'm not going to hurt you again so I'm going to stay with Steve."

"You don't have to do that! We can fix whatever this is."

"Cass, love, it's not broken. And just for tonight. I'll be back." He hauled his backpack onto his shoulders and clipped it across his chest. Without one more word he brushed past me and left the master bedroom. I followed him after a moment of standing in confusion in the bedroom doorway—noticing Gran reading a tourist brochure on the sofa—but he was already out with the door closed. Even though he was claiming it was his fault, I couldn't help but feel like I'd done something wrong. I didn't have to act like a loving wife to feel the sting of that shut door.

"Buck!" I called, rushing forward, intending to go after him.

"Leave him be, butterfly," Gran interrupted, looking up from her brochure. "Just for tonight. Let him work it out. I had to do that with your grandfather quite a few times during our marriage. Every single time he'd be back within an hour with a dozen red roses and a beautiful love letter written out." I sat, defeated, on the arm of the sofa.

"That's not Bucky. Well, actually it kind of _is_ Bucky. But… I feel like I did something wrong."

"Cassie, sweetie, it's not your fault. He needs to work something out for himself, and then he'll come back. That's when you two will talk through it and fix whatever's wrong," Gran soothed. I stared at the door where he'd gone. "Now, go take a warm shower. It'll calm you down. Make you feel better. And who knows? Both of you might sleep better tonight because you're in separate beds. Then tomorrow you'll both be ready to talk through your problems."

I followed her instructions purely for the fact that if I didn't she'd haul me to my feet and shove me into the bathroom. I let the warm water run over my skin but got out still feeling in pain in my heart like it was somehow my fault. When I got into my pajamas and left the bedroom to hopefully go and hug my grandmother, I found that she had made hot chocolate for me. It was sitting on the coffee table and there were two mugs. I sat next to her and just hugged her while I drank it. "I know you said it's not my fault, but it stings like it is," I admitted.

Gran smiled and stroked my hair. "I know, butterfly. I know. And sometimes it doesn't get better for a while. But if you two truly love each other, you'll both get over it. Your Bucky seems to be the kind of guy to fix something rather than throw it away. And you are too. I have a feeling that you two will be just fine."

I took a sip of my hot chocolate. "Thanks Gramma," I murmured, curling up into a tight ball next to her.

We spent an hour or so drinking hot chocolate on the sofa. After the sun had gone down, Gramma Howell suggested I write him a note in case he came in while we were sleeping or the next morning. So I sat at the kitchen table and wrote him a note.

 _Dear Bucky,_

 _Don't beat yourself up. It didn't hurt. It just startled me. (Also, Gran says "hi". She's standing behind me while I write this.) I know you want to blame yourself. But it was just a nightmare. It wasn't your fault at all. I don't blame you. I blame HYDRA. They turned you into something you never would have wanted to be and none of it was your fault. So don't beat yourself up too harshly._

 _Bucky, just know that I love you exactly as you are. Including the Winter Soldier and the nightmares. There is no one I would rather spend the rest of my life with than you. You may not be THE whole universe, but you're MY whole universe. And I want you to remember that. So don't worry. I love you. Call me as soon as you read this, okay? I just wanna make sure you're okay and you know how much I love you._

 _All my love, your "little angel",_

 _Cass_

"There you go, sweetie," Gran commented as I folded the page in half and wrote Bucky's name in block letters on one side so he'd see it. I'd written the part about Gran being behind me so that he'd know it was part of the pretending-to-be-married act. "Now you'll feel better and he'll know exactly how you feel. You two will be right as rain in no time." I smiled as she stepped forward and gave me a hug. I hugged her back. As much as I loved living in New York on my own and being my own independent woman, there was nothing like family, and especially nothing like a grandmother's hug.

"Thanks Gramma," I murmured into the cloth of her shirt.

"Now let me braid your hair and send you off to bed."

So I did. I sat on the floor in front of the sofa and let her twist my still-damp hair into a long, neat braid down my spine. When she was done, she gave me a kiss on the forehead and shooed me off into my room, where she followed me, tucked me in, and turned off all the lights with a promise of a better morning.

I loved my gramma.

And as I laid in bed _completely_ on my own for the first time in a long while, I came to a realization that really should have been obvious from the beginning.

I was _ridiculously_ in love with Bucky Barnes.

 _Oh crap_.


	37. 37 Admit

**Author's Note: To "Guest": Great to hear! It does have a little bit of secondhand embarrassment sometimes. To "Rosemary (Guest)": I know right? It's taken her long enough! To "Guest": Thank you!**

* * *

The next morning I called Steve. "Hey Cass," he greeted. "What's up?"

"How's Bucky?" I asked.

"Um… I wouldn't know," he answered. "Haven't seen him since Central Park."

"He said last night that he was going to spend the night at your place," I protested.

"Well… he… didn't," the captain informed me. "Is something going on between you two that I should know about? Why wasn't he with you?" I sighed and scratched the back of my neck as I tried to figure out how to answer him.

"Um… two nights ago he had a nightmare. Thrashed in his sleep even harder than usual. His normal arm hit me right in the chest. Gave me a pretty good bruise. I told him it didn't hurt—it just scared me—but he didn't listen. He was distant all day yesterday and last night said he was going to spend the night at your place so he wouldn't hurt me again. I figured I'd call you rather than him to check up on him in order to get solid answers," I explained.

"Well, I'm sorry Cass, but he's not here."

I sighed. "Okay. Thanks Steve. I'll go check the Tower and a few other places. Would you do me a favor and call Sam and ask him if he's seen Bucky?"

"Will do. Check his apartment first. He might have just said he was coming to my place so your grandmother wouldn't suspect that you two aren't actually married because he has a whole separate place to live," he suggested.

I nodded even though he couldn't see me. "Thanks. Will do. Talk to you later."

"You too. Bye Cass."

"Bye Steve." I hung up.

Ignoring the rainy forecast, I threw on a thin white shirt, black skinny jeans, and my black leather jacket. I grabbed my purse, shoved my phone in one of the pockets, and left the apartment after writing a note to my grandma telling her I went to the Tower. As far as she knew Bucky wasn't actually MIA and I wanted to keep it that way. I rushed down the corridor to the elevator and rode it down to the bottom floor.

The subway ride to Bucky's building was uneventful and gave me some time to think—mostly about what I was going to say when I found him.

 _If you find him_ , a mean little voice hissed in the back of my mind.

 _Shut up_ , I thought harshly as I ran up the escalator to the surface. I walked briskly to the building where Bucky lived usually and gave the elderly doorman a smile. "Have you seen one of the men who lives here recently? Long dark hair, blue eyes, tall, well-built, probably wearing a green Henley?" I asked curiously, trying to be really nice.

"Oh Mr. Barnes?" the man clarified. I nodded. "I haven't seen him in a while actually. Sorry Miss."

I wasn't too concerned about that. Bucky was a stealth master. Just because the doorman hadn't seen him didn't mean he hadn't stayed the night at his own apartment. I pursed my lips, thanked the elderly man, and slid past him into the building. I took the stairs up to Bucky's floor (the second so the elevator wasn't really worth the wait) and knocked on his door when I reached it. I bit my lower lip and waited, tapping my foot impatiently to a silent beat in my head. "C'mon Bucky," I muttered. "Don't do this to me." I stared so intensely at the door I was almost surprised that I didn't burn a hole through it.

Then the door opened. "Cass?" Bucky asked. He was standing there shirtless in his jeans, like I'd interrupted him getting dressed. "Wh-what—?"

"I got worried," I cut in. "I didn't want you to be alone." Before he could protest I pushed myself into his arms and gave him a hug. I felt his metal arm rest between my shoulder blades and his normal arm circle my waist protectively. He buried his nose in my hair and just let me hold him. He clung to me desperately, like a lifeline. I could feel him shaking. "How did you sleep?" I asked, voice muffled by his skin.

He shook his head. "Horribly. But there were no nightmares. I didn't sleep awfully for the reasons I thought I would," he admitted.

"Oh?" I asked, hope filling my heart.

"Yeah. I got so used to not sleeping alone that when I _was_ alone, my body freaked out. I kept feeling like you'd gone missing or were kidnapped while we slept. I couldn't stand that I wasn't with you." He held me tighter. "I kept waking up expecting you to be there and then you weren't and I wasn't even sure where I was for a second and—"

I cut him off by kissing him. "It's okay. I'm here now. And I have something that I have to tell you."

He pulled me into his apartment so we weren't just kissing in the middle of the hallway. "I have something that I need to tell you too," Bucky informed me quietly, sitting us both down on his kinda raggedy sofa. I opened my mouth to start, but he cut me off. "But if I don't go first, I'm afraid I won't say anything at all."

This was it. The moment that he told me he actually hated me or thought I was the most boring woman on the planet and he'd only accepted to pretend to be my husband because he wanted future blackmail or didn't want to hurt my precious female feelings. I felt my shoulders slouch just enough that it was noticeable, a deep, anxious sorrow filling my chest before he'd even said a word. Of course that was what he was going to say. Why would he say anything different? I _was_ boring.

"Okay," I relented. I was ready to hear his rejection. My own feelings didn't matter. I wasn't worthy of a man like him and there was nothing wrong with that.

He took my hands—probably his polite way of softening the blow that was to come.

"Cass, I've been in love with you since the day Steve introduced us and you didn't flinch at my arm," he told me.

Wait, what?! _What_?!

"I know they say that love-at-first-sight doesn't exist and you can only be attracted or infatuated the first time you meet someone, and maybe that's what I was, but I fell for you so hard and so fast that I almost didn't even realize it," he continued. "I'm so in love with you."

A smile spread up my face with sheer relief. "Oh Bucky," I whispered. "I… I am hopelessly, _ridiculously_ in love with you too. I was afraid to admit it—even to myself—so much that I didn't even realize it. And then last night while I was lying in bed alone I discovered how insanely in love with you I was and it terrified me. Because I'm just a boring, normal secretary and you're an amazing, brave man with a lot of stories to tell."

He chuckled. "You're not boring and normal," he countered. "You're funny and wildly intelligent and beautiful—and unlike any other girl I've ever met." I blushed and looked down at where our knees were turned towards each other. His metal finger touched the bottom of my chin and turned my face up so I could see him and he could see me.

Bucky leaned forward and kissed me. Desperately. Longingly.

And I kissed him back, my fingers pushing themselves into his overlong dark hair, eyes closing and heart racing—his normal hand cradling the back of my head where it met my neck and his other hand holding my back firmly but softly.

"I see you found him," a casual voice remarked from the front door.

We both jumped and whirled to see Steve casually leaned against the doorframe, arms folded and smiling widely.


	38. 38 Going Steady

I cleared my throat. "I… uh… I mean… _we_ … um…" I tried to explain, not coming up with any sort of explanation whatsoever.

Steve waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Cassie. I heard the whole thing. And trust me: _it's about time._ "

I gaped at him while Bucky pointed an accusing finger. "Get lost, punk," he ordered.

Steve put his hands up in surrender. "As you wish. I'll see you guys later."

With a cheeky wink he retreated from Bucky's apartment. Bucky rolled his eyes and looked back down at me, his eyes searching my face for something—probably any indication that I was lying. Which I wasn't. At all. "So… can we have that conversation about going steady now?" he asked curiously. I smirked a bit and tried not to giggle.

"Yeah. But there's no conversation." Bucky's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Yes. We are."

He smiled and leaned forward. I gladly met him halfway and kissed him back, holding onto him tightly like I'd never let him go—and I never wanted to let him go. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to call you my best and only gal," he breathed.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to catch up," I joked.

"Doesn't matter. We arrived at the same place and that's what matters."

"I love you, you poetic little twerp." I kissed him again as he chuckled against my lips. After a moment I sighed. "But we should probably head back. Gramma Howell doesn't really know I left." If my brain was keeping track of everything correctly, it was day sixteen of her vacation to New York—which meant it had been eighteen days since he picked up the phone and instead of greeting him all I did was squeal, "Bucky, emergency!"

"Okay," he murmured quietly. "Let me go get a shirt on." He kissed me again and retreated into his bedroom to grab his backpack. I glanced around his apartment, taking a good look at it.

It was small and sparse, with framed pictures on the walls as the only decorations. They were all just like the one currently sitting on my TV cabinet—Bucky with members of the team, either smiling or making silly faces on all sides of the big main room as a reminder to him that he wasn't alone. I smiled as he reappeared with his backpack hanging from one hand and pulling a navy blue T-shirt on.

"Let's go," he remarked.

I took his offered hand and together we left his apartment.

Instead of taking the subway or a cab, we just walked all the way from his building to mine. It wasn't exactly far, but with the traffic even on the sidewalks it took about a half hour to get between apartments.

When we eased the door open, Gran was sitting at the kitchen table, doing origami with the tourist brochure she'd been reading the night before.

"You two okay then?" she asked when we entered.

Bucky smirked. "Never better, Mrs. Howell. Never. Better."

She smiled. "Good. Cassie made me worried last night. She was so worried about you and felt like she'd done something wrong—wouldn't be consoled." I blushed and buried my face in Bucky's muscular arm while he looked down at me curiously. Gently he pushed my face away and tilted it up to look at him.

"Is that true?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah," I admitted.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry," he whispered, leaning down to give me a kiss.

"It's okay. You were just trying to protect me."

"No, it's not okay. I shouldn't have put you through that kind of pain." He held me to his chest and cradled my head in his good hand. "I'm so sorry," he murmured into my hair, brushing it with his fingers. "I love you."

"I love you too," I replied, feeling it in my heart and believing him when he said it. Every other time he'd said it since Gramma Howell had arrived he must have meant it too—I was just too convinced that he could never like a girl like me to see it in the softness around his eyes when he'd said it before. Never again was I going to doubt his sincerity. I nuzzled my face into his chest and held onto his back, holding him as close to me as possible.

My phone started buzzing in my purse. I pulled it out. It was Tony.

I gave Bucky and Gramma an apologetic look. "It's work. Sorry." I stepped outside the apartment and answered. "Hello?" I asked.

" _Rogers just told me that you and Barnes have finally admitted your true unrequited feelings for each other!"_ he shouted at the top of his lungs. I held my phone several inches away from my ear and winced, blinking in surprise.

"Nice to hear from you too, Tony," I remarked sarcastically.

"You and Barnes need to get over here like _right now_! We're throwing a party!"

I rolled my eyes. " _No_ , Tony! You can't just throw a party!"

"Why not?"

"What would I tell my grandmother the occasion is?"

"The occasion is 'I Love You', temporary-Mrs. Barnes. It'll be a couple-themed party that everyone is invited to, but will heavily cater to couples."

"No, Tony."

"Well, the thing is, Cass, I'm your boss. So I say yes."

"Is Pepper with you?" I asked.

"No."

"That explains a lot."

"What?!"

"She's about ninety-percent of your impulse control."

"Look, Cass, I'm _happy_ for you and Barnes. I mean, he totally doesn't deserve you and you're way too good for him but if he makes you happy, then that means I'm on board. I know how much Steve and Natasha wanted this to happen. So just let us celebrate you! We all love you and tolerate RoboCop," he joked while I rolled my eyes again. "And plus any excuse to throw a party is a good one! Especially if it's an occasion like finding true love!"

I sighed heavily and put my forehead in my hand. "I'll ask Bucky," I relented. Arguing would do me no good and just give me a headache. So maybe letting him throw yet another party was the price I had to pay for my sanity.

I heard him cackle excitedly. "You do that, kiddo! FRIDAY! We've got a party to plan!"

I stuck my head back into the apartment. "Bucky? Tony wants to throw a couples-themed party tonight—something about him and Pepper that I couldn't quite catch. Interested in going?"

Bucky gave me a curious look that clearly said, _Really?_ I shrugged. He sighed.

"Well, I don't suppose we'd ever hear the end of it if we _didn't_ go. So might as well."

"Gran? Wanna join?"

"No. I'll stay in. Get some good sleep. If it's a couples' party I don't want to be the only one there without the love of their life. Your grampa's been gone for a while now, kiddie."

"Okay. Are you okay staying here by yourself? We could probably send over—"

"I'm fine, sweetie. But you're kind to think of me."

"Alright." I turned my phone back towards my mouth. "Bucky and I will be there, but Gramma Howell is opting out," I told Tony. I heard him cheer through the other end. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a day with my husband and grandmother to get back to."

"Okay, kid! Enjoy your love!"

"I plan on it." I hung up and properly went back into the apartment. "Who wants breakfast? I don't think I had any."

"I already ate," Bucky and Gramma Howell chorused at the same time. Bucky chuckled.

"Okay. I'll make some toast then," I commented. I was just pulling the bread out of the cupboard when the front door opened easily and Natasha strode in, wearing a short black trench coat, dark-wash skinny jeans tucked into beige knee-high boots, and what looked like a red blouse underneath the coat.

"You and me need to talk," she informed me, grabbing the crook of my elbow and pulling me towards the master bedroom. I passed the bag of bread to Bucky as I was dragged backwards past him and stumbled after her through the bedroom and out onto the fire escape. "So Rogers just informed me that you finally realized your deep and abiding love for Bucky and he confessed his feelings for you that he's had since you met."

"And you're here to… what? Congratulate me? Chastise me?" I asked.

"I'm here to congratulate you. I told you that if I had anything to do with it he'd be totally in love with you by the end of the month."

"So you didn't know he was in love with me."

"No I did. He's not very good at covering it up. But I couldn't tell you because it wasn't my secret to tell. What I _meant_ was, if I had anything to do with it, you would love him _back_ by the end of the month," she informed me, still speaking quietly so Bucky and Gramma Howell wouldn't hear us inside.

I sighed loudly and rolled my eyes. "Thanks Natasha," I muttered sarcastically.

"You're very welcome!"

"Anything else?"

"Yes. We're spending the day at the Tower getting ready for the party and Bucky isn't allowed to come and see you," the redheaded ex-assassin remarked as she pulled me back through the window, bedroom, and living room, giving Bucky a pointed look when she said his name. "And wear a suit to the party tonight Barnes!" She pulled me out the door and ignored my protesting.

"Love you Bucky! Love you Gramma!" I called before Natasha snapped the door shut.

* * *

 **End Note: It's about 30 minutes before midnight in my timezone which means I can say that this is my Valentine's Day present to you all! But I'm exhausted and had a really long couple weeks so I don't have time to reply to reviews just yet. Just know I read every. Single. One. And I love them all. I'm so glad y'all are still excited for this and I LOVED your reactions to the last chapter!**

 **Thanks for reading! Questions? Comments? All are welcomed!**


	39. 39 Party Prep

Natasha peered at the picture of Peggy Carter with pursed lips. "Well, we're going to have to do victory curls," she remarked decisively.

"No, my hair's too long," I protested.

"Then we'll just do _lots_ of them!"

"No, no, no. You don't understand. My hair is so long and so thick that it literally can't keep a curl. The sheer weight of it just pulls them out. I've tried victory curls and ringlets and other stuff before. None of it stays longer than an hour or two if I'm lucky."

Natasha sighed. "You're purposely trying to make my job difficult," she complained.

"Well this isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my day so I'm not necessarily in the mood to comply," I retorted.

"I guess that's fair," she muttered sarcastically. "Are you _sure_ you don't want to try the victory curls again? Maybe they'll stay this time if we put enough hairspray in your hair." I shook my head fervently.

"No I'm fine."

"Then I guess it'll be an up-do," Natasha relented.

I sighed heavily. "Okay." I changed out of my normal clothes and into the outfit I was being forced to wear to the party and sat down in front of the mirror. Natasha stood behind me with the curling iron, the flat iron, a massive box of bobby pins, another of hair ties, a bottle of hairspray, and an expression on her face so full of mischief that I was genuinely concerned about what she was gonna do to my hair. I stared at her reflection anxiously while she decided where to begin.

But she surprised me. She didn't really use more tools than the bobby pins and the hair ties to tie my hair up into an elegant bun. She coaxed a few strands out of the bun, twisted them around the curling iron, and then pinned them on top of the bun so there was a circular texture all over the large knot of my hair. She gently pulled some of my "baby hairs"—the short hairs near my face that never grew longer than about seven inches so they always fell out of braids and ponytails—out and curled them into small ringlets hanging on either side of my face.

The process took several hours, during which time Wanda joined us, already in her outfit with her hair mostly finished. She also brought us lunch—which was fantastic because Natasha had yanked me from my apartment before I could even have breakfast.

"Where did you learn how to do all of this stuff?" I asked the redhead as she sprayed some of the ringlets into place.

"I was an assassin for a long time, kiddo. But I was also a SHIELD shadow. We learned how to hide in plain sight. Earn the enemy's trust. It required a lot of disguises—most of which I applied to myself so no one had to touch me," she explained. I rubbed my nose as it itched and nodded. "But let me tell you, it's a lot easier to do someone else's hair." Wanda and I both chuckled. The brunette young woman played with her red powers to make some bobby pins do a little dance on the counter between me and the mirror. I laughed and pulled my phone out to text Bucky.

 _Hey, if you leave the house, would you please grab some milk? I think we're almost out._

 _Of course. I love you._

 _I love you too._

"So I heard you two finally confessed," Wanda remarked casually, totally not looking over my shoulder at my phone. I sighed and grinned.

"Well, _he_ finally confessed. I just finally realized how hopelessly in love with him I really was and had been too afraid to admit to myself," I replied. The brunette smiled and toyed with the ends of her hair thoughtfully as she chose her next words.

"I looked in your head and saw the love there," she informed me. "I thought you knew. Had I known you did not know you were in love, I would have told you." I smiled and Natasha burst out laughing as she pinned more of my hair into place.

"That's sweet of you, Wanda," the redhead commented. "But Cass was so deep in denial she would have laughed at you and brushed it off." I shrugged nonchalantly. She was right. "Well, okay then, Cass. I think you're done." I grinned and stood up, taking in my entire appearance. I looked nice. "Wait! No you're not! We forgot your makeup!"

"Nat you're already doing enough for me as it is—"

"Don't even think about protesting! You're hopeless at it and I like doing yours anyway. Your complexion is different than mine. It's fun to have a challenge. Now sit back down!" She put her hands on my shoulders and forced me back into the seat. I sighed heavily as Wanda chuckled and Natasha pulled out a huge bag of makeup. I closed my eyes, resigned. There was no convincing her otherwise so I might as well just let her. It wasn't like she'd put clown makeup on me.

 _Do I get a picture of your party clothing before the party?_ Bucky's text read as my phone buzzed.

"No he does not!" Natasha snapped before I could even reply.

 _Natasha says no,_ I replied.

 _Why?_

 _It's a surprise._

 _I'm sick of surprises. Not that this morning was an unpleasant one._

 _XD I know. I don't like surprises much either. But this morning was the best surprise I've had since my best friends all scared me to death for my eighteenth birthday party._

 _You'll have to tell me that story some other time. I like your high school stories._

 _Really?_

 _Yeah. It brings some semblance of normalcy to my life and my whacked up brain._

 _That's a good thing right?_

 _That's the BEST thing._

 _XD Good!_

"No, no, no!" Natasha snapped, snatching my phone from my hand. "No talking to the fake husband while we're having a girls' day!" I reached back and took my phone back from her, tucking it under my leg.

"Fine!" I conceded. "I won't text him anymore. Just let me tell him so he doesn't _freak out._ "

"Yes. We would hate to have a rampaging, panicked Winter Soldier on our hands," Wanda agreed.

 _Natasha says I can't talk to you anymore because it's girls' day. Love you. Talk to you later. I promise._ I put my phone away as Natasha leaned over my face and started to paint my lips. I smiled when she was done. I was starting to look very authentic. She did my eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, and blush before determining that she was done.

The party was due to start in an hour—the hair had taken _that long_.

"You look lovely," Wanda complimented.

"Thank you. You do too. Vision will be pleased," I replied.

"Vis-Vision?" Wanda stammered.

"Well… yeah. I mean, he's your date tonight, isn't he?" I asked.

"Yes…" she trailed off. "But we are… just friends. The same as Natasha going with Steve." I raised my eyebrows and looked over at Natasha. She smirked. I mean, I knew they were going to the party as a pretend couple just because they were very good friends and liked watching the action unfold from the sidelines while laughing at everything. That wasn't what she was smirking at. I looked back at Wanda and nodded.

"Right. Just friends. That's fine and all. But I got this treatment from everyone for the past seventeen days, so I'm going to give it to you gentler now," I remarked. "You and Vision obviously have feelings for each other. But you're afraid to love because you've lost everyone you loved and Vision doesn't _really_ understand what love is yet. I mean, he's got an idea, but I don't think he gets it."

"Cassandra…" Wanda started, trying to find the right words. "I…"

"Look," I interrupted. "If you and Vision aren't ready to be in love with each other, that's fine. I wasn't ready to be in love with Bucky until recently—last night, in fact—so I'm not going to force you two together unlike how the entire team seemed to treat me and Bucky. But I'm rooting for you."

I gave her a slightly sarcastic thumbs up as Natasha finished her own makeup.

* * *

 **End Note: I KNOW this has taken forever. Cut me some slack? I was on a two-week trip that I've wanted to go on since I was four and while I was gone my mom got sick so when I got home I had to help take care of her. I got a lot of reviews asking if the last chapter was the end. It is not. I know I should have wrapped up this story faster, but honestly I still have SO MUCH. So if you're satisfied that they got together and want to stop reading, that's up to you. But their story isn't over yet.**

 **To all of you asking if this chapter was going to be their wedding: no! Slow down! They JUST got together!**

 **To "GBear (Guest)": All three reviews were amazing! I'm impressed at how quickly you caught up! Thank you so much! I'm so happy to hear that you think I'm hilarious! Made my day! To "Freereader25 (Guest)": Thank you so much! That's so kind of you! To "Guest": It's not a wedding! They just BARELY got together. Give them some time!**

 **Thank you all for reading! Questions? Comments? All are welcome!**


	40. 40 Another Party and a Phone Call

"Wow. You are… amazing," Bucky said, almost speechless.

I looked down at my 1940's party dress and shoes with a smile on my face. "You think so?" I asked. "Natasha did most of the work."

"Doesn't matter. You look like you walked right out of my memories. In the best way."

I laughed and took his hand as the music started up—legit 1940's vinyl coming from Tony's record player in the corner of the party room. The whole place still had its distinctly modern, high-tech feel, but it had been decorated to look like an old-fashioned club—including a hologram of a big band playing brass instruments. Bucky smiled and pulled me right onto the dancefloor.

Pepper and Tony were sitting close to each other on a sofa. Natasha and Steve were standing next to the bar, laughing at something on Steve's phone screen. Clint had brought his wife Laura—they were standing near the window holding drinks. Vision and Wanda were standing _very_ close to each other in a corner of the room, talking quietly with their heads together. Sam was all by himself, combing through Tony's selection of records, though he was joined by the also-alone Rhodey.

Bucky and I would probably be the only ones dancing.

I smiled as a slow song came on. Bucky held me close to him, his flesh hand on the small of my back and his metal hand holding my other one at my eye-level. I just gazed into his eyes—because if I didn't I would definitely mess up and fall over. That'd be hilarious and embarrassing.

He glanced at where my left hand was resting softly on the curve of his deltoid, wedding ring glittering in the yellowish half-light. "I love you," he told me with a happy sigh as his eyes turned back to mine. I grinned.

"I love you too. So much. And I feel like such an idiot because I didn't figure it out earlier."

He smiled. "It's alright. Don't feel so bad. We have each other now. That's what counts." He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead, not wanting to smudge my blood red lipstick.

When the slow song was over, we got a bite to eat at the buffet table set out, and then retreated to the roof of the Tower. Bucky's suit coat wrapped gently around my shoulders and we leaned against the railing. I sighed as the wind teased at the curls hanging on the sides of my face. "We told Gran this is where you proposed to me," I remarked with a grin.

Bucky chuckled. "Well, if I ever were to propose, it would be here."

"Why's that?"

"This is one of my favorite places. It's quiet and windy. You can really clear your head up here." He smirked. "Also it's probably the one place in the Tower that doesn't have security cameras," he added quietly. I laughed.

"Fair point. But wouldn't you want the security cameras to take pictures?"

Bucky shrugged. "As much as I would love pictures of the moment, I think I'd prefer the privacy." I nodded understandingly, lips pursed. "Cass?" he asked, still speaking softly so I could barely hear him over the wind. I raised my eyebrows and looked at him. "I just wanted to say thank you. I haven't felt this happy in a long time." I smiled and wrapped my arm around his waist, leaning up against his side. His flesh arm draped over my shoulders while his metal one—probably cold from the temperature of the air—hung limply to his other side.

"Well, you're welcome," I replied with my wide grin. "You make me happy too."

And then, of course, to ruin the moment, my phone rang.

"Hello?" I greeted.

"Cassie!" a familiar voice exclaimed.

"Hi Mom!"

"I haven't heard from you in a while and I know your dad's mom is staying with you for the month so I got concerned," my mom commented.

"Yeah, no. Everything's fine. We've just been doing so much that I keep forgetting to call you. Sorry."

"It's okay sweetie. I just wanted to make sure no one's been hospitalized."

"Well, not yet. I've probably given my boyfriend an ulcer but no one's had to go to the ER."

"Wait, wait, wait! What boyfriend?!" Mom demanded.

Bucky snorted and held out his hand for my phone, indicating he wanted to talk to her. I passed it to him. He squeezed my shoulders tighter and grinned. "Good evening, Mrs. Howell. My name is Sergeant James Barnes—but I go by Bucky. I work with the Avengers. Your daughter is a beautiful, smart, and hilarious young woman."

I shifted my weight up onto my tiptoes so I was a few inches higher in hopes of hearing what my mother said to him.

"Are you her boyfriend?"

"I am." He winked down at me and whispered so she couldn't hear, "That's one way to put it." I snickered. Telling my parents about the whole fake-married thing could wait until later.

"And you're treating her right?"

"Ma'am, I grew up in the nineteen-twenties, -thirties, and -forties. I know how to treat a woman right better than almost anyone."

"What? The nineteen-thirties?! What did you say your name was again?"

"Sergeant James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes, Mrs. Howell. I was a Howling Commando under Captain America. I fell off a train in nineteen-forty-five and was captured by HYDRA. Kept in cryogenic freeze for seventy years. Off and on. But that doesn't mean I don't remember what it is to be kind and chivalrous to a woman who deserves it," Bucky explained. "And believe me, your daughter deserves it more than anyone." I blushed and smiled.

"Put my daughter back on the phone, please," Mom said.

"Yes ma'am. Here she is." He passed the phone back down to me. "I had to be honest," he whispered. "It's better that way."

"Now you're just making me feel guilty for lying to Gramma," I hissed before putting the phone back up to my ear. "Hi Mom."

"WHEN DID YOU START DATING THE WINTER SOLDIER?!" she shouted. I winced and pushed my phone away from my ear.

"This morning," I answered. "Officially. We've been unofficially dating for the past couple weeks."

"Cassie, he's dangerous."

"Mom, he's no more dangerous than Captain America."

"He was an assassin and a terrorist!"

"He was _brainwashed_ , Mom! He didn't have any control over what they were making him do!"

"What if he hurts you?"

"He won't!" I pushed, unconsciously blushing guiltily as the bruise on my chest gave me a throbbing reminder that I was partially lying. "He's a good man! He's been nicer to me than anyone I've met since I've been living in New York with _maybe_ one or two exceptions." I sighed heavily and glanced up at Bucky. "Mom, please don't freak out. I do love him. He's not what everyone thinks he is. He didn't have a choice."

"You know I trust your judgement, sweetie, so for now I'll be okay with you dating an internationally-known assassin."

"Thanks Mommy. I love you."

"I love you too, baby. Now put your boyfriend back on the phone."

I gave my phone back to Bucky. "Mrs. Howell, you won't regret letting me date your daughter."

"Listen up, Sarge, if you hurt my baby girl I will tear you apart!"

"I have no intention to do any such thing, Mrs. Howell, I swear. I have been hopelessly in love with Cass since the day I met her and I would never dream of doing anything to cause her harm. However, if something does happen, I will not fight back if you tear me apart."

"Good. Goodbye, Mr. Barnes."

"Goodbye, Mrs. Howell." He hung up the phone and gave it back to me, sighing heavily. "She's right to be cautious though. If you were dating Steve she would be freaking out in the good way."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, but in order to date Steve I'd have to be in love with him. And that just sounds like incest," I retorted. That made him laugh. "He's like an older brother to me. That annoying older brother I never had." Bucky laughed and held me tighter against his side, sighing contentedly as a breeze blew over us, playing with the curled tendrils of my hair near the sides of my face. Shivers sprouted on my arms.

"Shall we go back inside? Are you cold?"

I shrugged and passed him back his coat. "Sure."

"Cass, you truly look like you were born decades too late. The style suits you."

I blushed and looked down at my outfit. "Thanks," I muttered, half flattered and half embarrassed as Bucky offered me his flesh elbow and escorted me back into the bowels of the building. The warmth hit us the second we opened the door. Not that the roof was terribly cold or the rest of the Tower was really hot, but there was a marked difference when we entered the stairwell.

"Have I mentioned recently that I love you?" he asked.

"Once or twice, yeah," I answered with a wide grin.

"Good. Because I'll never get tired of saying it freely."

"Well, I don't plan on getting tired of hearing it. Did I tell you that I love you too?"

"I think so. A couple times," he teased, nudging me with his forehead. I turned and kissed him.

* * *

 **End Note: Running late for a thing so I'll edit this to respond to guest reviews later. Just wanted to give you guys something since this has been a long time coming! Love y'all!**

 **All questions and comments welcome! (Especially if I missed a word or spelled something wrong! Lemme know if you catch something and I'll gladly fix it!)**


	41. 41 Teasing Before Tragedy

"Has anyone seen Bucky and Cass?" Steve asked, looking around.

"I haven't. Check all the broom closets," Tony replied, voice slurred from too much alcohol.

Bucky and I laughed as we reentered the party room. "You're hilarious, Mr. Stark, as always," I remarked sarcastically.

"Aw! So I'm not going to find you two making out in a broom closet or a spare room?" Tony complained.

"No. We have a little bit more decorum than that," I snapped.

"Though I wouldn't say no to such an opportunity, should it arise," Bucky whispered in my ear. I snickered and rested my head against his chest. Sometimes he was a little bit too funny for his own good. I noticed Steve looking at us with a grin on his face. I jerked my head towards him while looking at Bucky, indicating that we should go talk to him. He smiled at me and complied, doing a fun little twirl to get over the still-barren dancefloor.

"Well, if it isn't the lovebirds," the captain commented sassily. Yesterday I would have narrowed my eyes and told him to can it because Bucky and I weren't like that. I was glad things had changed. "You know, you two are like real-life OTP."

Bucky looked very confused. "What's that? I mean, it's the Bucharest, Romania's airport code, but I feel like that's the wrong context," he mumbled.

"Remember when I explained to you what 'shipping' was?" Steve asked.

"Yeah…"

"Well, OTP has to do with that. It stands for 'One True Pairing'—and it basically means the 'ship' that you like the most. The Casscky ship has been my OTP since… oh I don't know. It's been a while," Steve explained. I stared at him with my mouth open.

"Who came up with a ship name?" I demanded.

"Natasha."

"I heard that!" Black Widow shouted from across the room.

"We're talking about their ship name!" Steve called back.

"Oh. Okay! Yeah it was my idea!" she agreed. I laughed and shook my head. I worked with crazy people.

"Okay. Back to the first thing. I have been wanting you two to get together since the blue goo incident. Cass, sorry kiddo, but you were obviously digging him from before then and didn't know it. Though I don't know how you didn't know it. Your denial is a superpower in and of itself!" Steve enthused. I narrowed my eyes this time.

"Rogers…" I warned.

"And Bucky, you had a crush on her the moment she shook your hand and didn't flinch at seeing your arm! I mean, obviously you knew about your feelings, but she didn't. Watching your whole relationship play out has been like watching a TV show over the course of _years_!" He paused for a moment. "Now, Cass, I'm not calling you stupid or dense because you didn't notice his crush or your own feelings, okay? So don't be mad—because you're actually really smart. You were just so against the idea of someone falling in love with you that you refused to notice the signs."

I looked up at Bucky. "I think I'm ready to go home. What do you think?"

He snorted. "Well, if you want." The night was still young enough that we could get back to my apartment so we wouldn't have to stay the night at the Tower again.

"Bye Steve," I put in quickly.

"Don't think this conversation is over, missy," he retorted as Bucky and I held hands on our way to the elevator.

We stopped off at the floor where Natasha had done me up for the party all day and grabbed my normal clothing—and then we kissed on the entire ride down since everyone else was up at the party or asleep and the ride was completely private. Not divulging too many details, but several bobby pins did get yanked out of my hair, leaving curled ringlets hanging off of my bun.

Instead of getting a late-night cab, we walked back to my apartment, close together because Bucky was both paranoid and overprotective. When we got back, I got ready for bed first, showering the hairspray out and the makeup off and getting in my pajamas.

Bucky had changed from his handsome suit into his jammies too by the time I got out. He held me close to his chest in the bed and sighed into my hair.

"Goodnight, doll. I love you."

I smiled. "Goodnight, Bucky. I love you too."

With a kiss planted in my hair, we both drifted off.

It was around two-thirty in the morning when I heard the loud _crash_ that jarred me and Bucky from our sleep. Bucky sat ramrod straight in an instant, his metal arm yanking out from under me—which quickly dislodged all sleep from my brain. "What was that?" he hissed.

I slid out of the covers and circled the bed to get to the door. "I don't know," I answered tiredly. "Let me go check it out."

"Are you joking?" Bucky demanded, throwing his side of the blankets off and jumping out of bed, grabbing his shirt and yanking it on. "You are not going out there alone!" I rolled my eyes and opened the bedroom door. Bucky slipped through it first and scanned the main room of the apartment while I ignored it and knocked lightly on the door to the spare bedroom.

"Gran?" I asked quietly. "Are you alright?"

I was answered by a faint moan.

Curious, I pushed the door open, peering around it into the dark space.

"Gramma!" I exclaimed, slamming the light on and rushing over to her. Bucky was in the doorway as I knelt down next to my grandmother. She must have fallen out of bed. The lamp that usually sat on the bedside table was on the floor—which explained the noise. She was holding her right hip with her eyes closed in pain. I wanted to pull her onto my lap but knew that would only hurt worse. "Bucky call an ambulance!" I looked up at him, panicking.

He disappeared and then came back with his phone up against his ear. Slowly he entered the spare room, eyes sweeping Gran's prone body, searching for damage. "Yes, hello. I have an elderly woman here who fell out of bed and appears to have broken her hip. We need an ambulance." He gave the operator the address and paused, listening to the other end of the call. "Thank you, ma'am."

I'd stopped listening, wondering what to do, when his hand circled my shoulders and squeezed comfortingly.

"Shh. It's okay, Cass. Don't panic. It'll all be okay. They're sending an ambulance over. Everything's gonna be fine," he soothed. "Mrs. Howell, you're going to be just fine. Nothing more is going to happen to you." That last comment was directed at my grandmother.

Already I could hear sirens wailing—but there were sirens all the time in New York so it probably wasn't the one meant for Gran. I was holding my grandmother's hand tightly with my face turned into Bucky's chest. A hot tear soaked into the fabric of his T-shirt as he rubbed my back between my shoulder blades. I squeezed my eyes shut and looked up at him. This couldn't be easy for him—going through some middle-of-the-night ordeal might not be as harrowing as his Winter Soldier days, but it might be reminiscent.

For a moment that night when Sam was drunk and relentlessly flirting with me and Bucky went full-on Winter Soldier flashed through my mind.

I didn't really want that to happen when the paramedics came.

"Are you okay?" I whispered to him, not knowing what else to do but keep Gran still.

"Of course," he answered.

"You're not going to go Winter Soldier on me?"

"No. This isn't that kind of situation. I promise, love."

"Okay good."

He kissed my temple and just cradled me to his chest as best he could while we were kneeling on the floor with my grandmother in front of us with her hip broken and in pain. I was fighting down an anxiety attack by breathing deeply and letting the tears flow freely. Bucky wiped one off with his thumb. He was such a caring and kind man that sometimes I wondered how HYDRA was ever able to get him to do _anything_.

After a while there came a frenzied knock on the door. Bucky jackknifed to his feet and went to answer it.

* * *

 **END NOTE: Yooooo... so... it's been a while... yeah... Sorry my dudes (which I use as a gender-neutral term). This last little while has really been kicking my butt. School, original fiction projects, I got the flu, then my laptop broke and I had to get a new one... it's been hectic. But I'm back now! Thanks all!**

 **To "Guest": It was a joking threat, Cass is not super strong nor is she related to Loki. And yeah it hadn't been updated in a while nor is it complete... working on both of those...**

 **To "SR0": I understood what you meant, it's all good. 1. Right? Tony is such a great character. 2. RIGHT?! If I ever write Steve as a guy who doesn't understand technology it's only for laughs and not because I actually believe he's not a smart dude who understands exactly what's going on. 3. Yeeeeep! Teasing is an integral part of this story.**

 **To "Rosemary": Happy dancing right along with you!**


	42. 42 Hospital

Bucky's phone was still bugged by Tony, so it wasn't a surprise that I was getting barraged by texts from him the entire ambulance ride to the hospital.

 _Is your grandmother okay?_

 _Did she really break her hip?_

 _Whenever she's feeling a bit better we'll bring the Quinjet to the hospital and fly her home to your parents and her family so more loved ones than just you can care for her and watch out for her._

 _But only if you want me to._

 _She's your grandmother after all._

Each sentence was its own text. I rolled my eyes repeatedly before shoving my phone in my purse—that I'd grabbed off the coat rack along with one of my more casual and comfortable jackets before taking off behind the paramedics. After a moment of breathing deeply to calm down, I pulled my phone back out to reply, _Thanks Tony. Yeah, she really broke her hip. I think she'd like to be flown home. But I'll ask her in the morning when she's feeling better._

In the ER waiting room, I paced up and down restlessly when we were ushered into it and Gran was taken off to see a doctor. Bucky was sitting down, tense but calm and collected, on one of the sofas while I fiddled with my wedding ring and the ties on my jacket and the zipper and just kept pacing. I knew I wasn't helping either of our mental situations, but I couldn't help it.

"Okay, sweetheart," Bucky finally interrupted my musings—probably when he couldn't take it anymore. "You've been at it for fifteen minutes. We're both tired but for now there's nothing we can do about your grandmother's situation. Go ahead and sleep. You'll feel better."

"No, I… I can't do that! If I go to sleep now I'll miss something!" I protested idly as I turned on the ball of my foot and did another pass, winding one of the ties on my jacket hood around my fingers.

Bucky gave me a sarcastic look. "You really think I would let you sleep through the important things?" he asked, almost teasingly.

I shrugged. "Would you?" I challenged.

"Of course not. C'mon, Cass, lie down. I'll be right here." He patted the sofa cushion next to him and took off his heavy jacket. I plopped down desolately next to him. He draped the jacket over my shoulders—and it covered down to about my mid-thigh since I was so much smaller than him—and pushed the side of my head until I rested it on his leg. His flesh hand stroked my hair and played with it while I wrestled internally with the prospect of sleeping at a time like this.

 _Gran would want you to rest,_ my conscience whispered. _So you'd have your wits about you when you needed them_. Well, at least the rational part of my mind was still firing on all cylinders, even if the rest of me wasn't because I was so worried.

I closed my eyes. They were sore from being awake for too long anyway, and the aching of exhaustion had been tugging on my eyelids since I'd woken up.

The gentle sensation of Bucky playing with my hair finally lulled me to sleep.

My whole body went limp and I was out.

I'm not sure how long I was out, but I was woken up rudely by Bucky gently shaking my shoulder. "Cassie, sweetheart, wake up," he whispered. "The doctor's here!" My eyes blearily blinked open and winced at the harsh bright light of the waiting room. I sat up slowly and pushed some stray hairs out of my face to see a man in a white coat sitting on one of those uncomfortable chairs pulled right up to us.

"Well, the long and short of it is she's definitely going to be fine. She's a very resilient woman. We reset her hip so it'll heal correctly, put her in a cast, and gave her some pain medication. You can go into her room now, but she probably won't wake up until the late morning so I'd suggest you go home and get some sleep," the doctor informed us. I glanced at Bucky, relief spreading through my body.

"Thank you, Doctor," Bucky told the man—who nodded, stood up, and left the waiting room. "Well?"

"Well what?" I asked testily.

"Well, are we going to go home or are we going to stay here?"

"Let's go home and get some normal clothes on at the very least so we're not hanging around the hospital in our pajamas," I conceded, glancing at my watch. It was five-AM. "Yeah. Let's do that."

* * *

 **End Note: Look who's back again! Finals are next week so I've been slammed but y'all, I'm trying. This is a super short chapter, so a longer one should hopefully be soon to follow (and if it's not up in the next couple weeks, feel free to nag). Also I went and saw Infinity War today and NO SPOILERS, but I cried and felt the need to update this. I haven't been this emotionally compromised by a flippin' MOVIE since the images of Hogwarts getting destroyed in HP and the DH Part 2. I'm trying to make myself feel better.**

 **To "Guest101": This is your favorite? I've never been more flattered. Thank you so much. I'm glad I can make you smile! Don't pass out though! Be careful!**

 **Thanks for reading! Questions? Comments? All are welcome!**


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